


Beloved Jewel

by zemira



Series: Beloved Jewel [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Crossdressing, Did I mention angst, Drama & Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 136,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zemira/pseuds/zemira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the crown prince, Seijuro had access to many rare jewels, yet there was always one he cherished more than the rest. But through a cruel twist of fate, it managed to slip through his outstretched fingers. Now, years later, on the cusp of being crowned emperor, his search resumes for it, not expecting to find the treasure under the guard of another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Seijuro-sama! Please come back!”

The boy of eight continued to run through the court yard, the silken edges of his robes trailing behind him like kites on the wind. Heterochromatic eyes scanned ahead, focusing on the maze of bushes that lay only a few paces away. If he could weed his way through that foliage, then he could escape the one pursuing him.

Seijuro giggled. A breeze of an escape. The servants were far too slow.

He didn’t want to do grown-up things, as his father had proclaimed that he must. All he wanted to do was play, but the servants that were hired to watch over him refused to grant him even a fleeting moment of leisure. He didn’t understand why it was so necessary to study texts he’d never heard of, or learning how to draw a bow and ride a horse.

Ever since his mother had passed away months ago, his father had increased the rigor of his schedule and discipline. Seijuro didn’t see the need for learning to become a proper gentleman or learning the required subjects a crown prince needed to rule as emperor later on in life. Why couldn’t his father understand he had no interest in those tiresome lessons and only wished to spend his childhood beyond the tight gates that guarded the palace?

As he trudged deeper into the bushes, he became aware of how faint the voices behind him now were. Perhaps he could lie in wait, or even enjoy his time in this area, as he was now concealed from all other eyes. Still, what was there to do in a mound of shrubbery for a diversion?

Consumed in his single-minded thoughts, Seijuro didn’t take notice of another figure in the clearing a few paces away. He yelped, nearly tripping over them, but easily caught his balance to save both himself and the miniature stranger who had obstructed his path. Dusting himself off, he turned to glare at the one who had interrupted his journey.

“You’re in the way,” he hissed, shooting a harsh glare the other child’s way.

Large hazel eyes peered over at him, the stranger’s face an embarrassed scarlet hue.

“I’m so sorry!” he babbled, “I-I thought I was the only one who came here! I didn’t know—”

“Okay, okay, enough! I get it, you’ve apologized.” Seijuro’s attention shifted to the soiled clothes, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “Do you always go out dressed in dirty clothes?”

The boy placed a hand behind his head. “Ah, no,” he laughed, “I was playing in that field over there a little ago and got dirty.”

“I see.” He peered ahead and noticed the display of flowers only a short distance away. “You play over in that flower patch? Why would you do that?”

“The flowers over there smell really nice! I come here all the time to see them.” He held his head up to illustrate how confident he was, despite how his actions until that point displayed otherwise. “I like to lie beside them so I can smell them better.”

His mismatched eyes narrowed, dark brows creasing as he surveyed the other boy. What was so amusing about a common patch of flowers? He had scores of them to gaze upon throughout the palace, and he wasn’t remotely as fascinated as this kid was.

“You have really pretty eyes.” The other boy suddenly giggled, catching Seijuro off guard. “They match your clothing really well.”

The future ruler took a step back, not anticipating such an abrupt compliment. Maybe it was because he knew who Seijuro was? Of course, how could he not? Everyone throughout the land knew his identity. But then why was the boy not treating him the way other people did? Why wasn’t he lowly bowing and addressing him as ‘your highness’ when speaking, like polite decreed?

Seijuro continued to eye him, suspicions fostering within. “What is your name?”

“I’m Furihata Kouki.” He smiled broadly. “What’s your name?”

The crown prince blinked. Did this boy really have no conception of who he was?

“I’m Akashi Seijuro,” he stated matter-of-factly, “I’m going to be the emperor one day.”

Kouki only granted him a bewildered expression, unsure of how to respond to the bold statement.

Seijuro sighed. That face told him all he needed to know.

“Forget it. I’m… Akashi Seijuro.”

He frowned at how foreign and unwieldy the name felt on his tongue. No commoner had ever called him by his true name, as he had never introduced himself in that manner to one. To all those outside of the royal family, he was simply the crown prince or your highness, titles he himself was sickened by. He’d freely admit that it was refreshing to use only the name he was born under.

“It’s nice to meet you, Akashi-san.” Kouki’s nose scrunched cutely as though his confusion lingered. “So umm, are you from around here, too?”  
  
“I guess you could say that.”

It was at least the truth. Through the maze behind them was the palace and most than likely the brainless servants who were still searching for him. Seijuro hoped the boy would leave the topic at that, and not press further. He had already introduced himself as a commoner himself, so it would be a bit odd to speak of where he truly resided.  
  
To his relief, Kouki nodded.  
  
Seijuro was content to leave things there, perhaps even trudge onward and leave the boy in favor of finding a more private place to reserve himself. But out of the corner of his eyes, his attention was drawn to a change in the other boy's expression, his brows pulled in and furrowed, seemingly pondering something. Twinned hazels scrutinized the prince, some inquiry laced within their depths. Almost immediately, the reason occurred to him.  
  
Even if Kouki had initially bought his introduction, the elegant garments he wore were clue enough that their statuses were vastly different. He had to be realizing now that he’d made an error. That was all it was.  
  
Unbidden, a faint pang of disappointment resounded within his chest.  
  
“You know, Akashi-san… you look kinda… sad,” Kouki uttered at length, face morphing into a sympathetic cast. Just as rapidly, a bright smile conquered the previous expression, and he quickly continued to address Seijuro. “Let’s play together today!” he encouraged breathlessly, taking a step closer. “I know a lot of fun things to do!”

Pondering the friendly invitation, Seijuro took a moment to mull over the facts. He was the crown prince, after all, and here was a commoner asking him to play with him. What did commoners do anyway? His nose wrinkled as he thought of ruining his elegant robes in the dirt patches that lay not too far away.

He was summarily saved by a voice calling for Kouki’s name. The other boy beamed at the sound, and then granted Seijuro a solemn expression.

“I’m sorry, Akashi-san. I have to go now, but if you want to play, I’ll be here tomorrow! I promise!”

The prince barely had a moment to respond before he had disappeared from sight. Seijuro watched as he slipped behind the bushes and to where he figured the pathway to the town was. He sighed, leaning against the side of a small well that stood nearby.

“What a weird kid,” he mumbled to himself.

It wasn’t that much of a surprise to Seijuro when he returned the next day, to find the other child there. Furihata graced him with that wide smile of his, and then ran to greet him as he came through the shrubbery. The Akashi heir nodded his head, unsure of how to respond to the friendly gesture.

“Hello, Akashi-san!” His tone was as vibrant as yesterday. “I’m sorry about last time, but today we can play if you want.”

Seijuro surveyed the area before focusing on the patches of flowers.

“I am not too keen on playing in dirt, Furihata.”

Kouki frowned. “Oh.” But his frown soon shifted skywards. “That’s okay! There’s other things we can do.”

And it was that day, the future ruler befriended a commoner.

* * *

Given how glacial the temperatures had become, he didn’t expect to find the other boy there, but sure enough, there he was. Seijuro’s lips downturned at the thin layers of clothing adorning him. He had lectured Kouki last time about dressing warmly in the cooler temperatures, but the other boy had embarrassingly admitted he didn’t own anything up to the task.

This time, Seijuro had arrived prepared.

“Here, Kouki.” He handed him the plush coat he had been carrying with him. “Take this. I don’t need this one.”

After months of playing together, Seijuro had begun to call the other boy by his first name. At first, it was a bit awkward, Kouki still calling the other by his surname, even if Akashi had told him to call him his first, but eventually they settled the terms. 

With Kouki still addressing him by his surname.

Being the future emperor, the Akashi heir was very stingy about lending his possessions to others, nonetheless actually letting them keep them as their own. Yet, with each passing day, he grew more connected to the brunet, and within time, he couldn’t help but want to give Kouki the necessities he lacked. If the other boy could grant him a world where he wasn’t known as the crown prince, but just Akashi Seijuro, this was the least he could do for him in return.

He stared at the warm fabric. “I-I can’t take that from you, Akashi-san! It looks like it really cost a lot!”

“Yes, you can.” The heir pushed the coat toward him. “Please, Kouki. It will keep you warm during this kind of weather.”

Kouki still hesitated.

“It would make me very happy, knowing you were warm.”

The other boy faltered. He didn’t want to disappoint his friend, especially after knowing him the best out of the other children in the village.

“T-thank you, Akashi-san.” He heedfully slipped the coat on, his expression one of glee. “It’s really warm!”

Seijuro nodded, surveying how well Kouki fit into one of his favorite coats.

“It seems we’re the exact same size,” he hummed, “That’s good to know.”

The other boy cocked his head. “Why is that good to know?”

Seijuro chose to keep that answer to himself. He didn’t want Kouki to know he had every intention to bring him an article of clothing he needed whenever the time arose.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured, “It’s just a fact for me only.”

As he watched Kouki happily run over to their usual play location, Seijuro couldn’t help but wonder how. How was it he had grown so close to this boy in such a short amount of time. Perhaps because Kouki had been his only friend?

He chose to keep the thoughts to himself, and ran to join the other.

* * *

Since he had befriended Kouki, the boy had always been eager to ramble on about his day. Now at the age of ten, Seijuro was beginning to realize just how open Kouki could be. For the past year, he was always one to express how he felt or if he was anxious to speak of something. 

Yet, for some strange reason, today, Kouki was eerily silent. Seijuro glanced down at the game they were playing and then back up to his friend who barely moved from his hunched position.

“You’re quiet today, Kouki. Is there anything I should know about? Something that might be bothering you?”

Kouki seemed to jolt at the sudden question. “I’m tired, that’s all. I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

The crown prince exhaled loudly. “I can tell when you’re lying to me, you know. You can trust me with anything, I’ve told you that.”

His shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to trouble you with my problems, Akashi-san.”

Seijuro frowned at the honorific. It had taken him numerous attempts, but together he and Kouki had constructed another name for him. Although the other boy had no knowledge of what the name Akashi truly meant, as he had been sheltered most of his life, Seijuro preferred to be called by his birth name. But when Kouki rejected the invitation, another alternative had to be formed.

“Kouki. We’ve been over this countless of times, have we not?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I don’t want to trouble you with anything, Sei.”

Sei. A simple tag to detach from his surname without the use of his birth one. The name greatly pleased him, although at times he had to guide Kouki in sticking to it.

“You are only troubling me by not telling me.”

Kouki sighed heavily. “My mom is sick. I think it might be a cold, but we won’t be able to find out.”

He couldn’t help how familiar those words sounded, or the way his gut involuntary twisted when he heard them. “Why won’t you be able to find out?”

Kouki seemed almost ashamed, eyes drifting to the ground below. “…We don’t have the money for a doctor.”

He blinked when the prince suddenly produced a coin from his pocket and handed it to him.

“W-what? I can’t accept this! The jacket was enough! Not to mention all the other things you’ve given me! I—”

Seijuro grabbed his wrist to discontinue any more rambling.

“Please, Kouki.” He curled his small fingers around the other's and dropped the coin into his palm. “Let me take care of you. You’re my dearest friend. I want to help you as best as I can.”

“T-Thank you, Sei!” He jumped forward and planted a quick kiss on the prince’s cheek. “I’ll never forget this!”

Completely ecstatic, Kouki leapt from view and disappeared from his sight. He was left standing there, speechless with widened eyes, and with his hand pressed against his cheek.

* * *

“I’m not so sure how I feel about this, Kouki,” he mumbled, “I’ve never been there.”

The other boy seemed to be in disbelief. “You’ve never been to the market?”

Seijuro tried not to cringe at astonished tone. As crown prince, he was practically forbidden to leave the palace unless it was some event of importance- one he cared nothing for. The only time he could recall was when he was younger and his mother was still alive. She enjoyed the festivities that occurred in the village day and night, and would take him there whenever they had the spare time.

“Maybe when I was really young,” was the quiet reply, “but that’s about it.”

“Then it should be even more fun!” He beamed. “Come on, Sei. I know you’ll like it!”

Seijuro sighed internally. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t like it, nor was it the dirty atmosphere (as he had gotten over that, thanks to Kouki), but he didn’t need to expose his origin. Kouki was still clueless to who he was, and if he stepped into one of the villages he would one day be ruling over, his masquerade would surely crumble.

Glancing down at the plain clothes he now wore each time they met up, Seijuro fiddled with the small hood behind.

Kouki frowned. “You don’t have to hide. Don’t you want to meet everyone?”

He quickly produced an excuse that would save him from revealing the truth.

“I have a fear of crowds, Kouki. I have no issue going with you, but please don’t make me see other people or introduce me to them.”

Kouki's frown remained. “Why didn’t you tell me that, Sei? I won’t make you go then if you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.” He could feel his pride wounded by the sudden words. “I simply don’t want others to notice me. I don’t even want them to know my name.”

After that, there was no more discussion. Kouki led his friend through the crowds of people, gleefully waving to a few passing villagers every now and then. As for the future ruler, his mismatched eyes widened at the scene around him. People here were so… happy, completely different attitudes than what he was used to in the palace. Even in such dirty conditions, they seemed completely jovial.

“Oi, Furihata!” a voice suddenly called, “Back to buy another apple?”

Kouki shook his head. “Ah, no! I’m showing my friend around today!’

The vendor glanced over at the hooded figure. “Is that so? His first time in the village?”

“Yep! This is Aka… I mean, this is my friend Sei.”

Seijuro only nodded in reply.

“A bit shy, is he?”

Kouki nodded. “Yeah, he doesn’t like crowds a lot, but I wanted to show him the market.”

“That’s nice of you, Furihata. Your mother must be proud of what a great boy she’s raising.” The vendor raised an eyebrow. “How’s she doing, by the way?”

Beneath his hood, Seijuro watched as Kouki cringed slightly before gracing the vendor with a beaming smile.

“She’s doing okay!” The forced cheerfulness in his voice was more than obvious. “The doctor should be returning to town soon to check up on her.”

Convinced it was a truthful response, the vendor returned to assist a customer. He may have been fooled, but Seijuro wasn’t. His hand reached forward to rest on the other boy’s shoulder as though to comfort him.

“Kouki.”

“Oh, look!” Kouki pulled away from the contact. “Chiba-kun is selling oranges today! Let’s go see!”

Seijuro sighed as he was dragged to another portion of the market. The other boy’s pretense wasn’t as firm as he thought, and he found himself growing more upset in knowing Kouki was hiding the truth from him. But who was he to have any say in that?

He had been concealing the truth from Kouki for years, and had no intention in exposing it.

* * *

The Akashi heir scowled as he ran through the fields. His father’s ridiculous ambitions had once more detained him, and now he was late in his usual meeting with Kouki. Escaping the servants that supposedly watched him was a minor task, but when the emperor loomed around him, Seijuro had a more difficult time. He just hoped Kouki didn’t think he wouldn’t be showing up and wouldn’t be present when he arrived.

As he pushed through the shrubbery, Seijuro frowned at the vacancy he uncovered.

“Kouki?” he called out anxiously, “Are you here?" 

It was a moment after, to Seijuro’s relief, a quiet reply emerged from the top of the waterfall. Glancing up, he noticed Kouki perched on the edge, his tiny form hunched over. Why was he so withdrawn? Did it have to do with his lateness? Did he think he had abandoned him and it had upset him greatly?

Without another thought, Seijuro rushed toward the waterfall and began the risky climb to the top. The scene he uncovered was enough to make his heart clench. Kouki had raised his head only slightly as to greet him, his hazel eyes watery and the rims a bright red.

“Kouki.” His voice was a mix of regret and sympathy. “I apologize for my lateness. My father, he….”

Though they had been friends for about four years now, Seijuro still sheltered his true origin. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Kouki with such a grand secret, but the more fact that the other boy might shun him or even treat him differently if he knew he was indeed the crown prince. At their first meeting, it hadn’t have been much of a problem, but the second he realized Kouki had not a clue to who he was, all thought of informing him went out the window.

“I’m not upset with you, Sei."

The quietness of his tone caused the Akashi heir’s eyes to soften. Seijuro inched closer, sliding over the smooth rocks until he sat next to the other boy.

“Then, why are you so sad?”

Kouki’s eyes once more lowered, his gaze on the rocks underneath them. Hoping to somehow appease him into stating why he was in this condition, Seijuro reached for his hand and squeezed it slightly, offering his comfort for the unknown cause.

“My mom.” His voice was trembling as a fresh wave of despair encased him. “The doctor said she’s not doing well. He… he doesn’t think….”

Seijuro closed his eyes as he realized he had been in this position before, his recollection returning him to that faithful day. A woman with long red hair lay on the plush bed, her frail and pallid complexion a horrid sight. Seijuro and the emperor sat by her side, their gaze shifting between the doctor hovering over her before returning to her clenched semblance.

“I understand how you feel,” he whispered, “I felt exactly as you are right now when Mother was sick.”

Kouki’s eyes widened. “Your mommy was sick too, Sei?”

“They promised she would get better, that the stupid illness would be cured, but they lied.” Seijuro’s tone was brimming with untapped emotion. “They lied, Kouki! Lied to Father, lied to me. She never got better. Only worse. They—”

His emotional tangent was curbed when he felt a weight on him. Kouki was resting his head on his shoulder, his small arms wrapped around him. Lifting his gaze, Seijuro studied the solemn expression and realized at that moment, just how strong his connection with this boy was. It had grown each step of the way. But now as they shared an emotional bond about an important incident that each had an unyielding attachment to, he could only feel it growing more.

This was, he had decided as he leaned into the other’s embrace, was all he needed in life.

* * *

Anxiety. Something he never had been plagued by before, but alas, life had found reasons. Currently, he sat on his plush bed, mismatched eyes narrowed as they glared at the elevated frame before him. Seijuro’s gaze then shifted to the elegant windows, as they often did. The last time he had encountered Kouki, the boy had been worried about his ill mother. And now, given that Seijuro’s sire had figured out where he had been disappearing to each day, he’d found a way to prevent the prince from escaping the palace. Seijuro wondered if Kouki was searching for him, as he had not shown his presence for long enough to cause panic.

It had been a fortnight since he’d last met up with Kouki. Two weeks since he’d last heard the other boy's laughter, two weeks since he’d last relished in his company. Now approaching the age of thirteen, his father was convinced it was time that Seijuro began studying in earnest to prepare himself as the heir.

“Cease your glaring, Seijuro,” the emperor berated, arms crossed tightly across his chest. His entire posture served as warning to the young prince, fully exemplifying his sire’s displeasure. “If you would only follow the lectures through, we wouldn’t have to repeat them.”

“I don’t see why I need to sit through these lectures, Father. They’re quite boring.”

“When I was your age, I was overjoyed when my father let me begin to take on some of the responsibilities that would be mine as emperor.” Akashi Masaomi grunted faintly, the furrow between his brows pulling closer together. “You are becoming nothing as I am, Seijuro.”

The crown prince snorted. “Thank the gods for that.”

Crimson eyes narrowed into thin slits. “So be it, then. If you wish to be a child, you’ll continue to be punished as one.” Masaomi rose. “Until you decide to act like the prince you are, you will remain in this room.”

Seijuro didn’t seem fazed by the threat.

Once the emperor was out of sight, Seijuro climbed from his bed. His focus shifted to the French doors on the other side of the room, guarding the exit to the lofty balcony. His father may have bolted the doors that led out into the hallway, but he was foolish to believe his heir wouldn’t discover an alternate exit.

Pushing open the doors, he peered over the edge. The trip down was at least five to six floors, easily.

“This might be a bit of an issue.”

Moments after, the silky sheets that decorated his bed had been knotted together. Seijuro gave a quick test tug and frowned when they easily slid apart. He should have known, but he had been too hasty for an escape. Circling around the room, he passed one of his many closets and uncovered just the item he needed.

A rope, which was left from his last horseback riding session. This was the only time he was thrilled any objects that were involved with his training were so nearby.

Once he assured the ground below was uncluttered, Seijuro tied one end to one of the stone pillars on the balcony before tossing the rest over the ledge. He gripped the rope firmly, a breath blowing harshly through his lips as he prepared himself for a difficult trip down. What was the worst that could happen? He slipped and fatally injured himself? At least then his father would cease his ridiculous ambitions.

On the third floor, the relentless emperor resumed his administrative tasks. His back facing the windows, he failed to notice the dangling rope hanging before them.

“Perhaps by this method, the boy will finally learn his lesson.” He made a brief survey of the room and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “By the gods, has anyone ever taught you how to clean properly?”

The servant within earshot glanced up just as a bundle of red and gold dropped down the rope. Her eyes widened, catching sight of the crown prince descending from his room and to freedom.

“Are you listening to me?”

She stifled her impending laughter as the heir vanished from view. “Of course, Akashi-dono. Whatever you say is law. I will redo it.”

As his feet alighted upon the ground, Seijuro barely gave himself a moment to breathe, releasing the rope and rushing out toward the field. Endless thoughts spiraled through his mind as he barreled through the maze. Was Kouki there waiting for him? Had he decided on something new for them to do?  
  
“Kouki!” He rushed past the usual greenery, panting at how swift his pace was. “Kouki! I’m here!”

He frowned as he uncovered a vacant area. Glancing up at the waterfall, the heir’s concern only amplified. Where was the other boy? This was the time they usually met up with one another. Perhaps Kouki was detained by some sudden obstacle?

“Well, that’s not a problem.” Seijuro glanced down at his attire, scowling at the elegant robes. “At this point, it doesn’t matter.”

He had been in such a rush he’d forgotten to change his attire. In these robes, commoners would easily recognize him, but that thought was meaningless as long as he could reach the one who had become his only friend.  
  
Shuffling through the clutter that blocked the pathway, Seijuro pushed through to clear his way. After years of playing with the other boy, dirt was the least of his worries. As Kouki had taught him, children his age should have been overjoyed at spending their childhood caked in dirt. And he had willingly fallen into a similar state.  
  
He glanced in all directions, assuring himself no other presence lurked about, particularly none who might have followed him. Once the scene was deemed safe, Seijuro hastily trekked to where Kouki’s house was located. He paused outside the door, trying to piece together the correct wording. The Akashi heir knocking at a commoner’s door to ask their child to play was a bit ridiculous to comprehend, no matter what turn of phrase was employed in the attempt.  
  
Instead, he maneuvered closer to the small front window nearby, wiping the dust away to gather a clearer picture. Nothing but darkness, not a single movement from the two occupants of the house. Conquered, Seijuro leaned against the door, pressing the frail wood in until it gave way and flew open.

“Kouki?” he whispered, “Kouki, are you here?”

As he stepped deeper into the cramped room, an overwhelming sensation of dread ambushed Seijuro's gut. All that remained inside were a few pieces of dust-laden furniture, both his friend and his caregiver having vanished. The heir collapsed in an old, rickety chair, trying to quell the despair in his heart. What had happened during the two weeks he wasn’t with Kouki? He couldn’t help the thought that something horrible might have occurred and put the other boy and his mother in jeopardy.

Seijuro’s vision swirled, a foreign wetness beginning to singe the corners of his eyes. In that moment, he couldn’t fashion the words to express how much he loathed his father for repressing his daily visits to Kouki. Now, the boy was missing, and his only friend had somehow vanished from sight. The only one that had taken him by the hand and shown him there was more to life outside of his elegant cage.  
  
“I swear.” He ignored how blurry his vision was becoming, words dripping with fervor. “I’ll find out what happened to you. No matter what it takes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight past angst, cross dressing Kouki ahead.

Drumming his fingers on the ancient wood, Seijuro stared straight ahead. Once more the group he had assigned the task to would be returning, and he was certain his order would be unfulfilled. Now at the age of twenty, his patience was almost completely withered. Although he knew he should have been focusing on the essentials now that his father was on bed rest, he had one primary goal in mind.

The same goal he had for years, ever since that fateful, horrific day.

“And with the same conclusion each time.”

Seijuro tipped back in the plush throne, mismatched eyes sealing shut as his temples pulsed violently. When was the resolution finally going to appear? It had been years, countless years, and he still hadn’t managed a trace, even a glimpse of hope in the case. Maybe the idiots he sent out each day were incompetent and didn’t know how to follow a simple command. Or perhaps there was never going to be any answers that he could sink his teeth into.

His eyes cracked open at the sound of footsteps.

“Seiiii-channn!” a voice crooned, only enhancing his nettled mood. “Sei-chan!”

He released an irritated gust of air, adjusting his position in the throne and granting the chamberlain a weary gaze. Though he was more than used to his servant’s cheery persona and the nickname he had fondly bestowed upon him, his current mood was anything but jubilant. Or tolerant.

“… What is it, Reo?”

The raven strolled into the room, turquoise eyes focusing on the distressed prince. Although he emitted an aura of irritability, Reo could detect the sorrow hidden in those eyes. The same despair he had seen every single day, for as long as he had known the man. To those around him, Seijuro appeared resentful at the fact he didn’t wish to take on the role of ruler, but Reo knew otherwise.

“You shouldn’t lay around here all day. Why not go out to the gardens? It’s such a nice day out!”

He grimaced at the returned glare. Seijuro didn’t even bother to conceal his displeasure at the suggestion.

“Do tell me you are joking.”

Mibuchi sighed. “It would do you some good to leave the palace, or at least this room, Sei-chan. You’re too young to be withering away like this, and for something so—”

If possible, the glare gained a venomous glint. “You wouldn’t dare to finish that sentence.”

“Forgive me.” He lowered his head. “It’s just, this is all you’ve done for years. It’s taking a toll on you.”

Seijuro was unfazed. “Get to the point.”

He chose his words carefully. “Don’t you think instead of us always searching, we could alert other parts of the country that you’re looking for him? Maybe they could—”

“It is no one’s business but my own. I do not need nosy commoners meddling in my affairs and wondering why the crown prince is so desperate in finding someone. We can handle it ourselves.”

Reo was about to respond when a servant entered the throne room. She fidgeted slightly, twinging her hands together as she approached the throne, lowly bowing and hoping she wasn’t interrupting.

“Excuse me, sire, but your father has been asking for you.”

“Of course,” he drawled sarcastically, “How did I not see that coming? The top person to add to my misery.”

Once Akashi vanished from sight, the assigned group returned. Without the one the search had been constructed for.

Ever since the heir had lost his beloved jewel, his search for it was endless. Day in and day out, up until he reached adulthood, Seijuro had sent people out in search for the brunet that had stolen his young heart.

“Nothing, huh?” Reo grimaced at the report. “Let’s try to keep that from him… for now. He’s not in a very good mood.”

While Mibuchi rushed to construct an explanation for their brief return, Seijuro exited the room of the declining emperor. He paused in the hallway, grabbing onto a nearby servant and passing his father’s instructions to them. Once the task was completed, he retired to his own domain to appease his wandering thoughts.

He pushed open the balcony doors, leaning over the edge to gaze at the estate. Across the field and through the shrubbery that concealed the maze to a hidden area was where his life first gained meaning. And then, as quick as he could blink, it lost it.

“Where could you be, Kouki?” he sighed, “Why has it been so difficult to find you?”

_Why?_

* * *

“Good afternoon, Kiku-sama.”

Spooked by the unexpected presence, a girl with long chestnut tresses froze in tending to her roses. She placed the clippers aside, gracing the servant with a warm smile before returning her focus to shortening the posies. Gliding her fingers over the smooth petals, she sighed softly, her dark eyes lowering in a state of tranquility.

“This bunch will look nice in the dining hall.”

The rose garden was her sanctuary. A paradise that was obtainable but still sheltered her from the outside world. Ever since she was a child, flowers had always been the easiest remedy for her, and as she matured, it remained that way. Though at times, it did bring a touch of sorrow to her, as it reminded her of her past.

Both the positive aspects of it and the negative ones.

A man of complementary height then stepped through the terrace doors, decked in a navy blue and black silken ensemble. His light eyes studied the girl that was hunched over and humming softly to herself as she continued to sort through the variety of roses. The birth of a smile twitched at his lips and then spread throughout evenly when he saw she was at peace.

“That set turned out rather nicely.”

Kiku jumped at the sudden voice, laughing to herself when she realized who stood behind her. She collected her basket, grasping onto the outstretched hand being offered to her, and stood from her settled post. Brushing at her skirts with her free hand, she glanced over at him with a wavering smile.

“You scared me, Kuroko-san.”

“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to. You weren’t in your room, so I figured you would be here.”

She flushed slightly, chancing a glance at his expression. It was then she noticed his fancy attire. How strange. Usually when he adorned elegant clothing such as this, he wasn’t present within the manor. Perhaps he was preparing to leave and wanted to assure she was in her room beforehand.

“Are you going somewhere, Kuroko-san?”

Tetsuya idly swept a loose strand behind her ear. “I was to meet with Ito-san, but that seems to have been postponed. I’m not sure as to why.”

“Oi, Tetsu!” a deep voice hollered, “You got an urgent telegram!”

Trying not to let his attendant’s intrusive behavior provoke him, Kuroko excused himself and returned to where another man stood by the terrace doors. Kiku watched as he conversed with him, trying not to roll her eyes when the other man sent a wink in her direction.

“Aomine-kun,” Kuroko sighed, “I would appreciate if you approached me in a more civil manner next time. You shouldn’t interrupt like that.”

A scoff resounded from across the room. “Like that idiot has a brain to remember anything.”

Daiki turned to the culprit, cobalt eyes narrowed. “Like you should talk, moron. When was the last time—”

“Aomine-kun, Kagami-kun, enough.”

Brushing their pointless debate aside, Tetsuya frowned as he skimmed the letter. So, this was why the meeting had been cancelled. Instead of having it sparingly throughout the week, the official wished to hold it in another section of the country, and straight through. That meant he would have to travel a great distance, farther than he had ever been from the manor, and Kiku would be absent from his care.

“Tsk,” he muttered, “How troubling.”

Both his attendants peered over him, which wasn’t much of an issue being how their master was quite short compared to them. Foreheads scrunched as they tried to perceive the script on the faded paper, they returned their glance to Kuroko who seemed to be lodged in deep thought.

“Kuroko?” Kagami asked, “What’s up? Er, I mean, is there a problem?”

The duke frowned. “Ito-san has moved the meeting further away than I would have liked.” He peered at the girl in the gardens. “I can’t leave Kiku-san unattended for so long.”

Daiki glanced down at the paper. “I’m not trying to be nosy, Tetsu.” He glared over at Kagami who snorted at that. “But Tsukigata isn’t too far from the palace. You could always ask—”

Tetsuya shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t be polite, Aomine-kun. I’m sure Akashi-kun is extremely busy. I could never ask him for this favor, especially since it’s been years since we last spoke.”

Although they had known one another since the crown prince became the age of sixteen, Seijuro still kept to himself. At times, Kuroko had no idea what churned in his mind or what it was that made him so hostile. He knew the prince resented his father, but he always had a suspicion there was another matter hidden beneath, one Akashi never wished to discuss with others.

Kagami nudged in. “Ahomine is right. Would it really hurt to ask? It’s not for a few days, so it would give you time to write him and ask.”

Glancing over at the preoccupied Kiku, Tetsuya's shoulders slumped in defeat. What was the harm in requesting this particular favor? Even if the crown prince wasn't open to invitations, perhaps he would allow just one. The duke released a swift breath, folding the missive and then returning his attention to his servants.

“Kagami-kun, Aomine-kun, come with me.”

* * *

“Seiii-chann!”

Reo poked his head into the throne room, expecting the prince to be seated in the same position as he always was. But to his surprise, the man was absent. Scrunching his brows, he stepped through the parted doors, peering around to see if Seijuro had changed his location.

Not a trace.

“That’s weird. He’s always in here. Unless he got called elsewhere.”

Shrugging, he returned to the hallway, only to bump into another fitful servant. He glanced down to notice the scroll in her hand and retrieved it from her. The chamberlain didn’t wish to stick his nose into affairs that weren’t for his eyes, but perhaps it was a clue to Seijuro's missing jewel.

That was all the motivation he needed.

So when he read through the writing, the hope he had withered.

“Uh oh. Sei-chan isn’t going to like this one.”

He fidgeted, realizing he was to lead another search within the next few moments. Yet, this was a crucial letter that needed to be within Akashi’s hands, and the prince was nowhere to be found. Reo sighed. He didn’t have time to comb the entire palace and its exteriors if he was about to conduct another search. The latter, as he knew, would be Seijuro’s first choice when it came to deciding.

And, truthfully, it was news he himself didn’t wish to deliver.

It when then he noticed a familiar blond head. “Kota-chan! Come here. I have a job for you. A real important one.”

The other chamberlain jumped, eager to assist as he rarely had occasion to. Discarding the task he was involved with, he rushed toward Mibuchi, a curious glint in his jade eyes. His curiosity only enhanced when he noticed the scroll in his companion's hands.

“I need you to find his highness and give this to him. I would go myself, but I need to go on another search.” He smiled, beyond relieved he wasn’t the one delivering the news. “You understand, right?”

Hayama reluctantly took the scroll. “What’s it say?”

Reo shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he lied, “That’s Sei-chan’s business only.”

“Okay,” he spoke, “but—

“Many thanks!” Reo patted his shoulder with a wide grin. “I knew I could depend on you! Gotta rush now!”

He was whisked by so quickly, Hayama could feel his light tresses sway with the gust. Glancing down at the rolled up missive, he steeled himself and began the long journey throughout the palace, trying to piece together where the future ruler was. If he wasn’t in his usual place in the throne room, gazing blankly ahead as he did every day, and he wasn’t in his quarters, where else would he have wandered to?

With a shrug, he decided to comb the grounds outside first. At least if he cleared those areas, then he would be left with the other rooms inside the palace. He tried not to whine as he pushed through the French doors that led out to the lawn. It was rare that Akashi was ever in the gardens anymore, as it brought him extreme sorrow. Nor would he have gone beyond the gates that led to the village.

The echoing of galloping then pierced his ears. Hayama peered off in the distance to catch the heir’s prized steed and the rider was none other than who he was searching for. Breathing a sigh of relief, the chamberlain sped toward him, hoping Akashi was in a decent mood for once and not his usual irascible one.

He approached the fence, waving a hand out to capture Seijuro’s attention. It was seconds after that the prince rode toward him, ceasing the horse’s motion. Without dismounting himself, Seijuro fixed his gaze on the chamberlain to show he had gathered his attention. Hayama shifted nervously and presented the scroll to him.

“Reo-nee said this was urgent.”

Akashi snorted. “Did he now? What is it in reference to? Something I have no care for?”

“Uh, I’m not so sure. I was just asked to give it to you….”

“Where is Reo now?”

The chamberlain flinched, hopping from one foot to the other under the royal’s piercing gaze. “He went out on… another search, so that’s why he sent me.”

His expression didn’t falter as he unrolled the scroll. “Of course he would. Why would he do otherwise?”

As he read through the contents, Seijuro’s mien only soured. He skimmed until he reached the signature and exhaled loudly. His assistance would be required during the period when he was already enduring hell itself with the mounds of dilemmas he had on his plate. Nonetheless, his reasons for declining a simple invitation were meager, and he couldn’t conjure up a decent excuse to reject it.

Besides, it wasn’t as though Kuroko had caused him any harrowing trouble in the past.

“Go find Reo,” he ordered, “I highly doubt he left yet, and tell him to meet me in my private chambers. Now.”

* * *

“Kiku-san?”

A light knock startled the girl inside.

“Kiku-san, are you decent?”

Dark irises that were sheltered by thick lashes fluttered slightly. Her lips pressed together, smudging the rosy pigment that had evenly caked them. Nervously she shifted, her trembling hand running through her long chestnut tresses and disturbing the gold hairpiece resting at the top of her head. Her cheeks were brushed lightly with a pale pigment, bringing a bit of vitality to her pale appearance.

She frowned. Today would be the first time she would be leaving the manor after so many years. The thought alone was terrifying, but as long as he was by her side, she would be at ease.

“Kiku-san?”

“Y-yes!” She turned away from the mirror to gaze at the door. “You can come in!”

Kuroko then entered the room, decked in another one of his elegant ensembles. He graced her with a peaceable smile, hoping to appease the jitteriness he knew she was experiencing.

“We’re about ready to depart Are you prepared?”

Kiku’s head bowed, her gaze focusing on the many jeweled accessories that lay on her vanity. Her fingers sorted through them, moving each piece aside as though she was deciding internally.

Inching nearer until he hovered behind her, Kuroko leaned over her shoulder to sort through the collection himself. He then selected a thick golden necklace with a purple gem in the center.

“I personally prefer this one.”

Carefully lining it around her neck, he boldly returned his gaze to the mirror where she watched as he clasped the piece shut.

“I believe it compliments your eyes rather well.”

Kiku’s head was bowed once again, but flattery had been the cause for her shyness this time around.

“Thank you, Kuroko-san.”

She then rose, grasping onto the outstretched hand he offered as she endeavored not to trip over the numerous skirts of her lavender and gold dress. Kuroko then stepped away, retrieving a matching coat that had been laid out on her bed.

“I’m only doing this for your safety.” He sighed as he fastened the buttons shut. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be detained, and I’d feel a bit more at ease if you were staying there rather than here, alone. You won’t be too far from me then.”

Kiku only silently nodded, her hands locked at her sides.

“You have no need for concern.” Kuroko brushed a wandering chestnut strand from her eyes. “I assure you that you’ll be kept comfortable.”

“I understand,” she whispered.

Kuroko frowned pensively. It wasn’t that the servants throughout the manor weren’t trustworthy, but the girl had undergone excessive amounts of trauma to where she was pronounced to be in a delicate state. Though he knew Kiku was confident in defending herself at times, it was her harrowing past that complicated matters ever the more.

“Oi, Tetsu!” Daiki called, “Are we leaving yet, or what? I want to- ow!”

“We leave when he says we leave, you moron. When did you suddenly get to have say in anything?”

Tetsuya sighed. “Aomine-kun, Kagami-kun, I hope you two show better behavior when we get to the palace.”

“Idiot over here should be lucky he’s allowing him back in. Remember the last time? He was pissed off about something, and—”

“That’s enough, Kagami-kun.” Kuroko turned to the girl beside him. “Are you ready to depart?”

She nodded, reaching to clutch at his hand for reassurance. In turn, Kuroko squeezed it lightly before guiding her out of her room and into the main hallway. Kiku glanced behind, trying not to roll her eyes when she noticed where Daiki’s eyes once more were. She was thankful at that moment Kuroko had chosen a flowing coat to conceal her as much as possible.

Gathering her skirts, she stepped into the carriage, Kuroko following shortly behind with his two attendants. She slowly breathed in the air around her, trying to ease her pulse which hammered more rapidly with every moment closer they were to the palace.

Kiku moved the curtains aside to gaze at the view. So many aspects had changed since her childhood, but it had been a long time coming since she had last seen the world. After Kuroko had rescued her, he had protected her from the despicable forces that were once decent human beings. People Kiku herself had associated with as a child, never aware of what their true and baneful intentions were.

An abrupt stop caused the girl to lurch forward, but a deft hand shot out to prevent her from doing so. She glanced past Kuroko as Kagami and Aomine were the first ones to exit the carriage. Picking up on her rampant anxiety, Kuroko reached forward to link their fingers.

“It’ll be fine,” he eased once more, “I promise you.”

She managed to grant him a tiny smile in response. Rising from his seat, Tetsuya collected her bags, guiding her toward the carriage’s exit. They froze when Aomine appeared in their view, gracing his superior with a bewildered frown and an outstretched hand.

“Uh, Tetsu, I think we got a problem.”

Kuroko stepped from the carriage, glancing around to see what had caused the attendant to speak out. He was used to the palace’s exteriors being guarded, but the sheer number of them hinted to him that some unusual circumstance was afoot.

“Kagami-kun, Aomine- kun, stay with Kiku-san. I will go ahead.”

* * *

Guiding Kiku through the large hallway, Taiga glared over at his partner who was too busy snooping, as per usual. It had only been ten minutes since Kuroko gave them instructions, and the crude moron had already decided he wasn’t following through. Not only were they most likely startling the girl, but the last matter they wanted was to run into Akashi before Kuroko met with him.

“Did you suddenly become deaf, or did you not hear Kuroko tell us to wait outside, you idiot?”

“I’m not standing out there while Tetsu talks to him. It’s boring.”

Kagami rolled his eyes. “Whatever. When he lectures us about this later, I’ll be blaming you.”

His brow furrowed when he realized he was speaking to air where Daiki once stood. Clenching his teeth, he spotted the other man a few paces ahead, trailing one of the servant girls. What a moron. Was he really trying to get himself executed or worse, both of them? He ran ahead, the fear of provoking the future ruler his solid motivation.

“You idiot!” he yelled when he reached the other, “Are you trying to get us killed?!”

Daiki scoffed. “You worry too much. It’s not like—” He paused when he noticed Kagami was solo. “Uh, where’s Kiku?”

Taiga turned to glance behind him. Indeed the girl was absent from his side.

“Oh, fuck!”

Elsewhere, the abandoned girl was observing the posh landscape of the palace’s interior. Kuroko’s manor was luxurious in its own sense, but never had she seen such vibrant decor as she was gazing at now. She peered up at the gold-framed portraits along the wall, pausing at one particular one, and wrinkled her nose. Why did this man appear so familiar? There was definitely something about him that ignited a spark of curiosity in her. Her own eyes then locked with the painting’s heterochromatic ones.

“Pretty eyes,” she echoed softly, before realizing how the statement sounded. “Pretty eyes…?” she echoed once more, pondering the words closely.

“Kiku-san!”

She looked in time to see Kuroko rushing toward her. Swept into his protective embrace, she peered over his shoulder to see the man in the portrait behind him, arms crossed and an unimpressed expression spanning his face.

“Well, Tetsuya,” Akashi snorted. “It seems more training is in order for your imbeciles, as they can’t seem to follow a simple command.”

Kuroko sighed in a long suffering sort of manner, gesturing a hand toward the other male. “Kiku-san, this is the crown prince, Akashi Seijuro. Akashi-kun, this is Kiku-san.”

Kiku bowed her head, discovering that any impending words were trapped in her throat. The future ruler nodded, ignoring her reserved state and deciding to pose his response vocally.

“I do apologize for the clutter. Unexpected circumstances have occurred after I agreed to this arrangement with Tetsuya. Nonetheless, you will be carefully watched over while he attends to his duties.”

As the two men began to converse amongst themselves, Kiku tried to ease the hammering in her heart. Though she was unsure how it could be true, she now knew for a fact she knew this man. As he concluded on how one of his chamberlains would be along to escort them and readied to depart, she found herself raising her hand as if to stop him.

“Se….”

_Kouki stared over at the hedges where his friend usually would appear from, but no sign had produced itself. It had been almost five days now, and the redhead hadn’t appeared for their usual playtime. Had he done something to upset him, or did he just not…._

_Care about him anymore?_

Her hand lowered, and it was then she noticed Kuroko was appraising her strangely.

“It’s nothing,” she laughed weakly, “Overwhelmed, I guess.”

Before long, a neatly attired raven-haired man strode into view, but Kiku barely acknowledged his presence. Her dark eyes were focused on the departing, flowing stream of crimson and gold. The same color attire she had seen so many years ago, disappearing from her vision with each passing moment.

“Kiku-san.” Kuroko’s voice cut through her reverie.

She turned to see him gazing at her with concern, Mibuchi staring at her peculiarly. Laughing faintly to conceal her anxiety, she bowed her head as though to apologize and offered them a wide, dazzling smile in the next moment. Kuroko stared at her for another moment before returning his attention to the taller man.

“I’ll show her to her room,” Reo spoke, hoping he appeared a bit friendlier than their future ruler. “If you would follow me, it’s right this way.”

* * *

Gazing at her reflection as Kuroko softly brushed her dark tresses, Kiku tried to quell her rampant anxieties from spiraling out of control. Her hands toyed with the accessories she had dumped onto the vanity, her fingers trembling and barely succeeding in grasping onto any of them. Kuroko must have sensed her troubles, for he paused in his grooming, returning his focus to the mirror and her reflection.

“Kiku-san, what is it that is troubling you?”

An image of eight-year-old Akashi Seijuro flashed through her mind. Those beautiful heterochromatic eyes that perfectly matched the crimson and gold elegant robes. The same robes the soon-to-be emperor wore as they were first greeted by him. There was no possible way. Akashi Seijuro was a regular child, just as Kouki was. They cared too much about each other.

He would never conceal such a vital secret from him.

“Furihata-kun.”

The masqueraded boy raised his head at the calling of his genuine title. Although Tetsuya knew of his identity, he rarely called him by his real name. The day he adapted to this disguise was the day he had parted with the name of Furihata Kouki. In order to banish a past he barely escaped from, and to be able to grasp onto the light being offered to him during those dreadful and dark times.

Kuroko. He could never repay him for what he had done for him.

“I,” he softly began, the feminine pitch vanishing from his voice, “I’m a bit nervous since this is my first time out ever since….”

_Darkness. That was all he could perceive. If he wiggled slightly, the chains would rustle faintly, their squealing sounds echoing throughout the sphere. His body ached; the slightest of movement provoked his already sore limbs and caused him to bite his lip to stifle the cry of pain._

Kuroko frowned at the sudden rigid stance. “You no longer have to be afraid. I promise you that. I will always make sure you’re kept safe.”

The masqueraded boy leaned into his embrace, closing his eyes at the comfort he received. In turn, Tetsuya began to stroke the false tresses, lulling the boy into a state of calm. Kouki felt himself easing into a warm slumber until a knock resounded throughout the room.

Kagami eased open the door, covering his eyes in case he had stumbled into a scene he shouldn’t have.

“Kuroko? The carriage is waiting.”

Sighing, Tetsuya moved slightly, disturbing the pleasant state Kouki had been lured into. He retrieved his cane from the corner and smiled sorrowfully, extending a hand.

“Walk me out?”

Kouki nodded, grasping onto his hand and rising from his seated position. Assuring the wig was in place, he lifted his skirts and walked toward where Kagami stood, offering him a weak smile. The attendant bowed his head, trailing behind the two as they walked the royal hallway.

Perhaps during the time he was alone, Kouki could begin to piece this shattered puzzle together. The crown prince, future emperor, Akashi Seijuro. Who was Akashi Seijuro really? The man who would soon become king....

Or the young boy he had learned to care for so many years ago?

It was crucial that he discovered the truth. Without it, that door from his past would remain forever open and he would never find peace.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The air was clouded with the thick aroma of lavender, steam emitting from the frothy mountain seated in the tub. Kouki glanced at the bubbly swells and then back to the floor, his arms locked at his side and his posture stiff as a board. His gaze then returned to the rising suds, hesitantly eyeing them as the wide tub continued to fill up.

But it wasn’t the bubbles that had him frozen on the spot, but more so who was standing beside him.

“Kiku-sama?” The servant cocked her head to one side. “Is there something wrong?”

Trekking a step back, the masqueraded boy nearly tripped over his many skirts. Kouki twirled a ringlet of his false tresses around a finger, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. How was he going to get out of this situation? If this woman was to disrobe him, she would certainly eliminate his facade. And while he was indeed concerned about managing this pretense for his own behalf, he knew she would run to the crown prince immediately after.

He didn’t want Akashi to discover the truth of his identity. Not when he knew the other had been the boy who abandoned him back so many years ago.

“Thank you very much for setting up my bath!” His pitch was squeaky, ruined by his overflowing nerves. “But I can handle the rest. You can go!”

The servant only remained in place, fixing her bewildered gaze on him.

“My lady, it’s my job. Please, allow me to assist you.”

Kouki sighed heavily, his cheeks stained a vibrant rose when he realized his frustration had parted from his lips rather than through his mind. His eyes then swirled around the room, landing on the servant’s … extremely ample bosom. Something that he, as a male, lacked. And it was that absence that would betray his guise. Aside from another rather obvious feature about him.

There was absolutely no way he could allow that to occur.

“Really!” he laughed, “I’ll be fine. I… I like to do it myself, without any help.”

Why couldn’t this lady be as tolerant as the ones back in Kuroko’s manor? At least they knew how to respect his privacy, but it seemed the palace ones were persistent on providing care toward their guests. Was Akashi really that intimidating that they were so determined to conduct themselves this way? Regardless, even if they were, she needed to leave.

But then to his relief, the servant rose from her post, although she did seem a trace reluctant.

“If that is what you wish.” She bowed. “Please do seek me out if you need any assistance.”

A small gust of air whisked through his lips when she finally took her exit. Once he was sure he was in the clear, Kouki began to dismantle his disguise. Carefully he placed the jeweled accessories aside, only to pause when he reached a small ribbon tied around his pinkie. The material had long faded, the seams dividing. It was simple yet he cherished it, for it held a meaning he knew he would never be able to let go of.

But after all that had happened, why did he still hold onto it?

“Kind of pointless now,” he muttered, allowing it to join the pile of his other items.

He then tucked his fingers under the false mane, carefully easing the wig off before turning his attention to the abundance of skirts he wore. Kouki frowned when the material refused to budge and wrapped around him like a vice. He gripped onto the edge of the counter and tried to wiggle himself free. Why couldn’t he have listened to the servant’s advice back in Kuroko’s manor and wore one without numerous buttons to undo in the back?

After Kuroko's departure, Kouki, completely exhausted from the lengthy trip, had succumbed to an early slumber. He’d awoken the following morning, still garbed in the same attire, by the urging of a servant. Now he found himself wishing he had done anything but that. Gripping onto one of the buttons, he tugged as best as he could, hoping he wasn’t ruining the costly gown in the process. Kuroko insisted on garnishing him with the lavish of gifts, even if Kouki had politely declined most of the time.

Just freeing him from the darkness was more than enough. More than he could ever need.

Following numerous attempts, the boy somehow managed to slip out of the complicated gown and settled himself into the water. Kouki sighed pleasantly, leaning back against the pillow that had been provided for him to rest upon. He submerged his body into the lavender stream, closing his eyes and sorting through the myriad thoughts nudging at his brain.

The palace, which was meant to be a safe haven for him while Kuroko was away, was already beginning to feel more oppressive than his masqueraded attire. Now that he’d confirmed that the prince was in fact the boy from his childhood, the tension always simmering beneath his surface had increased to an almost unbearable level. Given the sorrow of their parting, and the horrific events that came soon after, Kouki no more wanted to stay here than he wanted to replay the specific memories within his mind. But he had no alternative.

Kuroko had left him in the royal’s care for a purpose. Somehow, some way, he needed to overcome his misgivings and trust that judgment. His caregiver wouldn’t have placed him somewhere he didn’t feel was entirely secure. And he wouldn’t have left him behind if there wasn’t a reason for it. The duke’s journey would take him to many varying locations, all far and relatively unknown to him. He couldn’t be certain of their well-being if Kouki was to join him there. Even with all that as reason, reason enough for Kouki was the types of men that Kuroko routinely dealt with. Few were ever enjoyable.

Hazel eyes creased, recalling some of the last ones he had the ill fortune to meet. All that had done was stir the well of painful emotions linked to his past. Much as he desired to someday move past those mental injuries, it was easier said than done, particularly when he was faced with foes so similar to those who had done him harm then.

His musing was curbed by a harsh rapping on the chamber door. Startled, the boy slid further down into the sudsy pool, sputtering as some of the soap lapped at his lips.

“My lady, I thought I’d ask again if there is anything I can do for you—”

Mildly irritated by the servant’s abrupt reappearance and overbearing persistence, Kouki inwardly sighed before responding.

“I really am fine,” he urged, wincing as his tone shook from attaining a loud enough volume. “You can leave!”

To his relief, the sound of shoes departing soon echoed nearby, signaling the woman’s retreat. Pondering over the interactions he had with her, Kouki wondered if he’d ever find any peace while he was a guest here. Between the challenge of hiding his identity, and all the problems associated with his host, the prince, it was clear that his stay was not going to be either a short or a relaxing one.

The only thing he could do was hope to the skies that Kuroko would return to take him back into his care soon. The man was the sole person he felt at home with, the sole person with whom he could be his genuine self. That was a luxury he wouldn’t find with anyone else.

“Kuroko-san… please hurry back….”

* * *

 

Enthroned amongst the numerous satin pillows decorating his bed, the prince sighed, the sound dripping with melancholy. For some reason he couldn’t pinpoint, his chest felt tight with unfavorable emotion, his heart beating tiredly throughout the day with no sight of enlivening. And, as if to magnify the unknown anxiety, he’d brought out an item linked to the past, one that gave him even more sorrow to behold. For it was a trinket intimately associated with Kouki, the boy he had long been searching for.

Dangling the crimson tassel above his watchful eyes, Seijuro recalled the day he had bestowed one portion of the thread to the other, intending it to be something they could share, a token of their bond.  
  
**_“I wonder what it’s like.”_**

**_Seijuro diverted his gaze from the open book in his lap to the head nestled against his shoulder. This time for their usual gathering, Kouki had brought along with him a book he had been gifted from one of the villagers and – while blushing profusely at the fact he couldn’t read – asked the prince if he could read it to him. At first, Seijuro was reluctant as the tale happened to be about the life of royalty, but at the tempting vision of those wide, curious eyes, he quickly capitulated._ **

**_“Wonder what what’s like, Kouki?”_ **

**_The other ten-year-old sighed, snuggling into the warmth and comfort of the prince’s silken robes. It just so happened that today the bumbling idiots of the palace had decided on laundering his recent clothing and his plainer ones were absent from his grasp. Thus, the Akashi heir was left wearing one of the ensembles he positively loathed, especially when he was with the other boy. Considering up until then, he had played the role of an ordinary child, he worried about how it might make him seem._ **

**_“To be a princess.”_ **

**_Seijuro scoffed at those words. “Don’t let these books and pictures fool you, Kouki. It’s nothing like what they say in them.”_ **

**_The other boy turned his head to stare at heterochromatic irises now filled with repulsion. “What do you mean? Why do you think that, Akashi-san?”_ **

**_“Forget it,” he muttered, “Just don’t let your mind get twisted by these fairytales. Reality is completely different.”_ **

**_Kouki frowned at the bitter response. “Still, it would be nice to have pretty jewelry like that.”_ **

**_Catching sight of the crestfallen expression on the gentle boy’s face, Seijuro instantly regretted his brash words. Lecturing himself internally, he rose to a seated position and peered down at the tassels swinging from his attire. His gaze then returned to the now puzzled Kouki before yanking free the crimson strings from one of them. Placing it between his teeth, he separated the string in half, dropping one half back into his pocket._ **

**_“Give me your hand, Kouki.”_ **

**_Still bewildered, the other boy offered the hand closest to the two of them. He was dumbfounded by Seijuro's next action. The prince began securing one half of the tassel around his index finger, lacing it into a loose yet unmovable knot._ **

**_“It’s not much,” he sighed, “but—”_ **

**_Seijuro barely ended his sentence when a pair of small arms wrapped joyfully around his neck. Frozen in place, his mismatched eyes widened when Kouki nuzzled the side of his neck, giggling softly, and causing his heart to accelerate._ **

**_“You’re really great, Akashi-san.”_ **

**_He smiled fondly, adjusting to bury his head in those soft tresses. “No, Kouki,” he murmured, ”It’s you who is really great. There is not a jewel out there that can compete with you. Not a single one.”_ **

 

_**Never forget that.** _

  
Coming to the end of his reminiscing, Seijuro grimaced, dropping the fateful item onto his stomach and reaching for his wine goblet. Already he had consumed far more of the substance than he normally would, but the feelings roiling inside him demanded relief. At least with this, he could dull some of the agony. Swishing the beverage around inside its container, he studied the way the fluid spun within, letting his troubled gaze unfocus for a moment. What he wouldn’t give for a few days of complete numbness – to not have to think or have to deal with anything. Unfathomable as it was to believe that would occur, it was a nice dream. One he planned on entertaining for the remainder of the evening.  
  
That was, until fate intervened with a disturbance in the form of his chamberlain.  
  
After going through the usual procedure of knocking and being allowed entrance, Mibuchi whisked over to the prince’s bedside. A concerned expression morphed into his features when he caught sight of the object in Seijuro’s hands. He frowned, debating on the correct choice of words as to not rile him up any more than he already was.

Something was definitely amiss, and more than the usual with his unruly prince.

“Sei-chan.”

The fond title passed through his lips like the ghost of a whisper, but the heir managed to absorb them all the same. He lifted his downtrodden gaze, greeting Mibuchi with fatigue reflecting in his mismatched irises. Conspicuous vessels within and dark shadows below enhanced the tired vision, revealing precisely how affected Seijuro was.

“… What, Reo?”

Cautiously inching another step closer, Reo cringed at the scent of alcohol emitting from the prince’s lips.  
  
“You shouldn’t be—”  
  
“I don’t need a lecture,” he grunted, slouching down the pillows to a more comfortable position. “State whatever your business is, and then kindly exit my quarters. For the remainder of the evening.”  
  
The warning would have been enough to ward anyone else miles away, but Reo knew the royal better than to be intimidated so easily. Some other factor had disturbed him, and given that Seijuro rarely consumed alcohol, he was taking whatever the issue was rather hard.  
  
“Sei-chan,” he coaxed, “What happened? Something had to have for you to become like this.”  
  
Despite the scrutiny and non-verbal objection, Seijuro tipped his glass back, allowing the warm liquid to coat his throat and soothe more of his rampant anxiety. He then placed the goblet aside, resting his spare hand on his forehead to massage his pulsing temples. At this point, with all the hell he had been enduring, he’d prefer the migraine from a hangover rather than having to face all the tension surrounding him.  
  
“My father is nearing his end, Reo.”

The chamberlain only granted him a bewildered gaze. “But we already knew that—”

“No,”  he interjected, “This  _is_ the end. I recently visited him before retiring here. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s within the week.”

Mibuchi’s lips twitched in response, but his words never had a chance to be heard. A persistent rap against the sealed chamber doors echoed throughout the room, amplifying the prince's bitter mood into a critical state. Seijuro tilted his head back against the succor of the cushions, eyes slamming shut as he indicated the doors, signaling for the chamberlain to deal with the obnoxious disruption.

Fuming inwardly at his derailed attempt to soothe the melancholy royal, Reo retreated to the front doors. He yanked them open with little of his usual air of patience about him, eyes landing on the source before him.

Outside stood one of the household servants, a hand outstretched as if she was about to continue knocking. Considering the loud tenor of the raps before, he wouldn’t have been much surprised if she would have done so until her call was answered, instead of making a few and then politely waiting to be addressed. Though it was his policy to at least try to get along with all those who worked as his subordinates in the prince’s establishment, he was in no mood to play his typical cordial role.

“What is it?” he inquired brusquely, standing firm in the doorway to bar her access to the rooms within. “We are quite busy at this hour, so I hope for your sake that it’s something important.”

“I wanted to inform the prince of something about his guest that arrived the other night. She… is conducting herself rather strangely. She won’t allow me to assist her with any of her daily activities, and hours ago, she sent me away when it came time for her morning ritual. It’s very odd, Mibuchi-san. I’m not sure what I should do to make her feel more welcome.”

Vaguely eavesdropping on what to him seemed a mundane conversation, Seijuro pinpointed only a portion of it, his mind puzzling at the remainder.

Not thinking of the consequences, he opened his mouth, bluntly interrupting, “Why would you assign a servant to that girl? She likely prefers to be left alone if she’s one of Kuroko’s. I think we’d all rather be left alone….” he trailed off sourly.

The servant hoisted a brow, flexing on her toes to peer over the towering man. Mibuchi only remained fixed in place, inhibiting her access to the crown prince. Although he knew Seijuro was far from inebriated, he had consumed enough of the substance to alter his usual composed state, and Reo preferred to conceal that from the public eye.   
  
“His highness is exhausted and needs rest. Leave. I’ll deal with it later.” He gestured toward the hallway when she didn’t budge. “Go on now!”  
  
Mibuchi freed a swift gust of air when the meddlesome woman took a hint and departed, resisting the temptation to slam the doors closed. Retreating from the archway, he returned his attention to Seijuro, who had begun to fiddle with a piece of string. The chamberlain rested his frame against the wall, arms crossed and gaze locked on the slouching form of the brooding future emperor.  
  
“Nothing,” Seijuro muttered suddenly, tone clouded by emotion, “Nothing has gotten any easier. Don’t you think I’m thrilled to know the person who controlled my childhood will be gone? To know that I won’t have to ever deal with his meddling again? But with him gone, I’ll only be taking his place. I’ve dreaded this day the instant he fell ill.”  
  
Since he had met the prince, Reo knew Seijuro never wanted to be part of royalty. He knew he longed for a traditional childhood. To not be badgered by such strenuous lessons a crown prince was made to learn. But this motion wasn’t realized until he had befriended the missing boy, for Furihata had shown him what bliss a normal child could experience, what freedom they could enjoy. Until then, it had only been a meager wish, buried deep under the prince’s hatred of every time his father instructed him.  
  
“And soon, I will become emperor,” he continued, “It doesn’t help that Kouki is still missing. Maybe, but only maybe, if he were to be found, becoming emperor wouldn’t feel like so much of a death sentence.”

Reo quenched the chuckle threatening to escape from his throat. Now he was absolutely certain the liquor was having a severe effect on him. It was rare for Seijuro to proclaim his emotions, and if he ever had, it was never exhibited as clearly as it was right now. Becoming emperor was taxing enough, but now he was allowing the agony for the missing boy to ruin him. In good conscience, Reo couldn’t let him venture from his quarters for the remainder of the night. Instead he’d insure that there were no further interruptions.

“Try to get some rest, Sei-chan. I’ll inform the staff not to disturb you unless it is of importance.”

Akashi snorted mockingly, well aware there was a better chance of a snowstorm in July than there was in him obtaining the tranquility he desired. He listened as Reo’s footsteps faded, the doors closing softly behind him, and then returned to his world of turmoil. If only he could close his eyes and everything of this era would vanish. If only the sands of time could alter to where he was young again and had Kouki by his side, near enough to hold once again and listen to his laughter.

Whatever brief peace he had acquired was soon disturbed by a gentle tap. Groaning, Seijuro rose and dragged his way toward the doors guarding his room, fully intent on scolding whomever stood outside. They easily proved why it was useless for Reo to inform the staff of how he desired to have peace for the rest of the evening. Yanking them open, he was greeted by one of the last faces he wished to see, and their expression revealed all he needed to know.

“Sire, it’s time.”

* * *

 

Cracking open the door, Kouki leaned his head outward. Slowly he crept from his room, pausing to curse when his heel snagged on the carpet. His eyes darted self consciously in all directions, verifying the hallway was deserted before he ventured out. The last matter he wanted was that meddlesome servant pestering him and wanting to assist him in everything he did. He knew she meant well, but he preferred to do everything on his own.

And he certainly didn’t want her discovering what truly lied beneath this façade of his.

Heedful not to trip over his skirts, he tiptoed down the hall, muttering when once more his heel entangled with the carpet. Damn it, why couldn’t he have shorter dresses to where he didn’t need a heel to level himself?  If this was going to keep happening, he planned on redoing his entire wardrobe when he was back home, to assure he’d never have to deal with heels ever again.

At the moment, all he yearned for was some entertainment that would satisfy him for the remainder of the day. Being retained in a room that was so massive he became lost simply from his bed to his washroom wasn’t his idea of fun. There wasn’t a single book nearby - and given Kuroko had taught him to love reading in their time together - he wanted to indulge in as many novels as he could get his hands on.

He froze when he spotted the swirl of familiar crimson and gold robes, and dodged around the corner to conceal himself from the candles’ glow. Akashi trudged down the hall, one of his servants at his side, radiating with an aura that indicated how foul his mood was. Possibly even more vexed than when they first arrived at the palace. An extreme opposite from the affectionate face he grew up knowing.

When the crown prince had vanished from sight, Kouki checked to assure the halls were once again vacant. He peered ahead, frowning at how long just one hallway was, and debated on his next course of action. Seijuro loved to read as a child, so there was a possibility there was a library of some sort in this huge place. It would be silly to assume there wasn’t with how much appreciation the boy had for reading. Kouki could easily recall all the times Seijuro brought him books after he had asked him to read to him for the first time.

Stepping lightly, he trekked down the hallway, gliding by the thick curtains that shunned any sliver of light, making the palace appear more drab than usual. After assuring no servants were lurking about, he continued on until he reached two large doors at the end of a corner. Kouki peered up at them, glancing from left to right to assure he was still in the clear, and pushed them open. There was no harm in exploring, was there? As long as he didn’t tread into the emperor’s domain or Seijuro’s, he should be fine. After all, he was a guest. He had the right to be curious about being inside such a place, but he would prefer to do it solo and sans any of the badgering staff.

Unlike the hallway, the room was well illuminated, the curtains drawn back and exposing the afternoon rays of sun, easily revealing what it beheld. Kouki’s eyes widened, his excitement barely contained as he peered at the mounds and mounds of bookcases. Quietly he closed the doors behind him, his elation only flourishing as he walked the aisles to explore all the works of literature they held.

“Not bad for not knowing where I was going. I knew there had to be a library somewhere around here.”

Grazing over the title spines with his fingertips, he plucked a navy colored book from its settled location. It took a single glance at the cover to make him cringe and shove the book back into place. War was definitely not a topic he had an interest in.

Continuing on, he noticed one of them had an extremely ragged exterior, standing out compared to the others on this specific shelf. Curiously he pulled it from the shelf, only to drop it when he realized what exactly he had picked up. He quickly recovered it, holding the ancient book in his hands, his heart beginning to pulse as he ran his hands over the worn cover.

“This… this was mine.”

He flipped the pages, the faded words only enhancing his sorrow. It was then when he noticed a part of the book was causing a few pages to rise. Wondering what might be found within, he reached the section to uncover withering, dried up flower petals in the shape of something. Kouki held back his tears as he freed the relic and gazed at it with wonderment and sorrow. It was when he first began to create things out of all the flowers he gathered.

A flower crown.

“… He kept it?”

Emotion threatened to bubble over, the tears edging at the very limits of his control. Against his better judgment, a part of him yearned for the pure years of their shared past, for it not to have ended the way it did. Akashi choosing to abandon him was one of the most harmful memories he had, but foolishly, he still had some care in him for his one-time companion.

Hands trembling, he traced a finger over the brittle decoration, inwardly recalling the day he’d crafted it.

A thundering creak then resounded, startling the boy from his musings. Hazel eyes expanded to the brink, he looked on as the dark-haired man he had been introduced to the day he’d arrived waltzed into the library, his own stare fixing on Kouki at once.

“Ah, there you are! I went to your room to check on you and you weren’t there.” He laughed slightly. “One of the servants said they saw you heading toward the library.”

It was then he noticed the object in the girl’s hands. Reo inwardly grimaced. She would have to discover that one of all the books, and open it to the page where Seijuro had secured the last artifact he had of the missing boy. If the crown prince knew his guest had not only wandered down this section of the palace, but held one of the objects he cherished most, he would have a conniption.

Still, Reo didn’t wish to scold the girl. It wasn’t her fault her curiosity had gotten the better of her. He offered her a soft smile, gesturing toward the ancient book in her hands.

“You hold a very special book. That’s his highness’ all-time favorite.”

When she only stared at him blankly, the chamberlain decided there was no harm in telling her of the tale. After all, she was within Kuroko’s wardenship, so there was no possible way she would trouble Akashi with any lingering questions she had. And if so, Reo decided now would be the time to eliminate any of those as he told her the tale.

“You see, Seijuro-sama had a very close friend when he was younger. A boy, I believe the same age as his highness. Seijuro-sama adored him and wanted to spend every moment with him, but one day when he went to go visit, the boy had disappeared. Kidnapped, he thinks.”

Kouki tried not to show how thundering his pulse had become as he listened to the chamberlain’s words. He couldn’t have been talking about him, could he? Perhaps after him and Akashi parted, he had met another young boy. Yet, it didn’t feel as though that was true. Swallowing the blockage lodged in his throat, Kouki tried to force words to come forward, but all that came out was a simple question.

“What happened to him?”

The chamberlain sighed. “No one knows, but it has done nothing but tear his highness apart. There isn’t a day that has passed that he hasn’t sent someone out to search for him. For seven years now, and he still won’t stop.”

Although the words were astoundingly clear, Kouki still had a hard time grasping them. Akashi hadn’t abandoned him years back, and he had been looking for him? His heart that had endured painful slash after slash began to feel a bit lighter. To know he had been erroneous all along, to know Akashi had been yearning to see him again as he had been him. The truth was almost unbearable, the emotions unwinding.

The sudden bubbling in his belly brought a sense of queasiness, but he was too elated to take notice. There were no more questions to be asked. Once he found Akashi, he would reveal to him who he truly was. Though he was certain he planned to keep his past locked inside, at least he could assure the crown prince that he had been close to him all along.

Reo glanced over at the brooding emotions spiraling through the girl’s eyes. Perhaps the tale had upset her more than he had imagined. He offered her another friendly smile, hoping to bring her a sense of ease. And though he knew she meant no harm in journeying to this part of the palace and uncovering lost treasures, he was aware he had to remove her from here before Akashi took notice.

“Kiku-sama,” he began, “If you would—”

He froze when a loud clang echoed throughout the room. Kouki jumped, landing in the protective embrace of the chamberlain, and glanced around in bewilderment when the sound continued to resound throughout the hall. What was that? Was there some sort of emergency and they had to exit the palace as quick as possible? Or had he done something he wasn’t supposed to?

Reo’s solemn expression only enhanced his curiosity.

“Mibuchi-san?” Kouki asked quietly, “What’s going on?”

Releasing the girl from his grip, Reo paused before responding, a million thoughts whirring through his mind. Though they had expected this outcome for the longest time, it still meant a lot of work to be done now that it had happened. Frankly, he wasn’t sure how to begin, but one thing was certain. He needed to find the prince-no, no longer the prince-and seal himself to his side for the foreseeable future. To do anything that was required of him.

“The emperor has passed. … Seijuro-sama will now take his place.”


	4. Chapter 4

Amidst the busy marketplace, Seijuro gazed at the crowds as they passed him without a second glance. He adjusted the hood to further conceal himself, his usual regal attire substituted for more ordinary garb. Under this disguise, he was one of their own, a nobody, as his father once put it, and easily blended in with the rest. Frankly speaking, the future ruler couldn’t recall the last time he had been in such comfortable clothing and not the irritating threads he was forced to tolerate each day.  
  
It was strangely satisfying.  
  
He stuffed his hands in his pocket, nudging by the rushing shoppers as he continued to observe the stalls. Surely Reo was going to lecture him for this sudden escape, but the palace had begun to suffocate him. To obtain a moment to himself, was all Seijuro desired, but since his father’s passing, it had been one meeting after the next, isolated with the people he detested the most.  
  
Within a few days, he was to be crowned emperor, and the Akashi heir was doing all he could to prolong that event. But he knew it was unavoidable. Although it had been days since his father’s passing, the news still wasn’t registering. It was overwhelming, crushing him by simply glancing at the lone crown that now sat on a stand in the throne room.

If he could, Seijuro would flee and never turn back, to abandon his title and become a simple resident. At one point in time, he had felt like making that attempt, but when the young boy was taken from him, any trace of obtaining that certain life had vanished into the air as well.  
  
A sudden breeze fluttered through, disturbing his secure placement of the draping hood and exposing a few crimson tresses. He swiftly recovered it, glancing around to assure no one had spotted the mishap, and resumed trekking through the aisles. For some odd reason, being in a crowded place that was filled with commoners was eerily calming, even with the risk of them discovering who he truly was.

Chuckling slightly, the once prince could recall each time Kouki had taken him here, and how he would weakly protest on how he had no intention on going. But in the end, he knew he would somehow surrender and give in to the boy’s wishes.  
  
Was it possible for such an average one to captivate him so much?  
  
He sighed at the thought. That answer couldn’t have been more obvious. Even at such a tender and young age, Akashi knew. Knew by simply glancing into those large and curious eyes, that there were no questions to be asked. Since the day this boy offered his friendship and invited him into a world he never once knew he yearned for, he would forever be bonded with him. From that moment on, he never wanted to part from him.

But that was what dreams were for. Reality was another story, and as grim as the situation was, Seijuro knew he had to forge ahead.  
  
“Souta-san! Look over here! Look at the pretty flowers!”  
  
Turning to the side, Akashi noticed a girl who had to be around seven, pulling along a boy of similar age. She smiled widely, babbling to him about the various types of flowers that were carefully displayed at one of the stands. The boy only shuffled along, displaying no interest in the bundles she was showing him. But not once did his glance waver from her sparkling one.  
  
“Do you like that one, Mi-chan?” he asked softly.  
  
“Uum!” she giggled, standing on her tippy toes to stare at the single rose. “They’re all really pretty!”  
  
**_“Sei, look! Aren’t they pretty?”_**  
  
**_The Akashi heir stared at the countless flowers, each lined up in a row. His nose wrinkled, eyebrows creasing when he noticed some of the petals were beginning to wither. What was the point of them now that they had been stolen from their settled spot in the garden?_**  
  
**_“Those flowers are ruined, Kouki.”_**  
  
**_Kouki frowned. “What do you mean?”_**  
  
**_“They’ve been pulled from their spot in the ground. In a few hours, they’ll end up dying.”_**  
  
**_The other boy cringed. To him, that was a horribly morbid way of looking at it, despite most of the blooms seeming lively. Still, Kouki knew that just because the flowers were no longer alive, that didn’t mean that their beauty had to perish with them. There were other ways the quality could endure, even if the posies themselves weren’t able to._**  
  
**_“That doesn’t always mean they aren’t pretty, Sei. You can still make a lot of pretty things with them!”_**  
  
**_Seijuro wasn’t convinced. “Such as?”_**  
  
**_“I can show you when we go back to the gardens. I need to get some flowers from there to do that.”_**  
  
**_“Why ruin those when you have loose ones right in front of you?”_**  
  
**_Kouki scratched the back of his head. “Ah, well, I have to buy those kinds. I wouldn’t have to pay if I got my own.”_**

**_The crown prince was static for a moment, as though sorting through many thoughts. Retreating from his musings, he rummaged through his pocket before approaching the vendor. From behind, Furihata gaped at him, dumbfounded, which only caused Seijuro to chuckle._ **

**_“Here.” He handed him a few of the loose flowers. “Don’t look at me oddly. Take these, and show me what you can make with them.”_ **

“Sei-chan!” a voice called suddenly, “Sei-chan!”

He froze in place as his two chamberlains hurtled toward him through the waves of people. Though they hadn’t revealed his true title in addressing him, their noble attire was enough to cause a few lingering stares. Seijuro cringed at the whispers budding all around him, wanting nothing more than to lecture the two on their foolish acts.  
  
“What are you two doing here? And in your usual robes?”  
  
“We came looking for you!” Hayama piped in, “You shouldn’t be out here, Akashi-sa- ow!”  
  
Mibuchi’s fist returned from its journey of jabbing the other in the shoulder.  
  
“Don’t call him that in the middle of here!” He directed his attention toward their soon-to-be emperor. “Sei-chan, we’ve been looking for you for hours. Never did I think you’d come this far.”  
  
“I wanted to get away. Is that so much of a problem?”  
  
Reo frowned. “Well, yes. You see, the council has been—”  
  
“I don’t care what they want,” he hissed, “Haven’t I dealt with them enough in the past two days?”  
  
The chamberlain flinched at the bitterness, but he was more than used to it in Akashi's tone.  
  
“I understand that, but—”  
  
His response was curbed by Hayama stepping in between them.  
  
“We should all go back!” he interjected, bouncing nervously on his heels, “It’s so cold out here anyway!”  
  
Seijuro declined the suggestion, firmly in place.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere. All I wanted was a moment of peace, and I sure as hell can’t get it in there.” 

Flinching back from the harsh response, Reo retreated into his thoughts briefly, trying to decide what he had to do. Was it the right choice to force the prince to return home if the pain in his mind was such that he’d ran away in the first place? Would that only complicate the problem, or was this one of those times he needed to be firm with the stormy royal, to remind him of his duties?

Having a vibrant heart was hardly a crime, but unfortunately it wasn’t something someone of Akashi’s standing could often afford to have. Much as he liked the prince as a person, his duty as his chamberlain was to ensure the royal fulfilled his role. The choice was difficult, one Mibuchi had had to struggle with many times over the years.

But in the end he knew what one he had to make.

* * *

 

“Please lift your hair, my lady.”

Heedful as to not expose they were false, Kouki slowly lifted the dark tresses shielding his face. He tried not to flinch when the servant behind him tugged at the laces supporting the back of his dress, sealing the material shut. It was fortunate that all his dresses were padded, drawn up to the collar rather than cutting off by his bust line. Otherwise the charade would have been harder to maintain. Of course, he had to make sure to be properly dressed before allowing the woman in to complete the task.  
  
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, and wished to do everything by himself, it was challenging getting in and out of this type of clothing. Besides, he knew the woman meant well, and by now knew how to respect his privacy. He didn’t want her to believe he wasn’t grateful for her services, but he did still have a façade to keep alive.  
  
“There we are. You may now let your hair down, Kiku-sama.”

This was his fourth day in the palace. The fourth day since Kuroko had departed, and he had only gathered more stress. Ever since he had learned the truth of what happened those many years ago, his entire world had been twisted around. And though he knew how Akashi really felt about him now and was searching for him, since the emperor had passed, Kouki couldn’t manage to arrange a moment alone with him.  
  
Not as though Akashi had noticed his presence since the day he was dropped into his care, anyway.  
  
“Or should I say _her_ presence,” he mumbled.  
  
The servant paused in brushing the fake tresses. “Is there something wrong, Kiku-sama?”  
  
Ah, did he just say that aloud?  
  
Kouki laughed shakily, hoping it sounded feminine more than his usual pitch, and waved his hand to dismiss his lapse in character. He then returned his gaze to the many jewels on his vanity, once more sorting through them. Sometimes he spoke too much for his own good, and if he was to keep this gimmick a secret, he would need to learn to control his actions. At least until he was out of the palace and back home at Kuroko’s manor.

The man’s return couldn’t come soon enough. He was the sole person Kouki could trust and be himself around. With Kuroko there were no false pretenses – he could breathe and not worry about what someone might discover about him. He was safe under the duke’s wing.

Summarily, Kouki’s head rose at the blaring of voices resounding from the hallway. The door to his room then eased open, another servant entering with a few books stacked in her arms. She quickly closed it, sighing of relief when they were somewhat sheltered from the commotion in the hallway.

The woman brushing his hair greeted her with a solemn expression, her hands still actively detangling his silken tresses.

“I’m assuming they found him.”

She nodded. “They did. He was in the village.”

The brush came to a halt. “The village? Why so far away? He could have been seen! How foolish he is to do that!”

As the two women prattled on, gossiping, Kouki found himself inconspicuously listening. Akashi had gone to the village? He tried not to laugh at that image, though it did incite him to smile. When they were small, Akashi had always feared going to the marketplace, for he had once told Kouki he wasn’t comfortable around crowds. At the time, that seemed like a simple excuse.

Remembering everything, his smile began to fade, for now he knew that had been a lie. A partial one, at least, but still a lie. Akashi was the crown prince at the time, now the soon-to-be emperor, and didn’t wish for the common folk of his kingdom to realize his true identity.

To know how he been lied to, even when he thought he knew Akashi so thoroughly, wounded him tremendously.

“Do forgive us for speaking out, my lady.” The servant brushing his hair had noticed the tense atmosphere. “We meant no harm.”

The other arranged the books on the table. “I hope these are to your liking, Kiku-sama. I tried to find ones that would appeal to you, and not anything too gruesome.”

Kouki only offered them both a soft smile, returning his attention to the previous topic. Was Akashi really disliked this much by his staff? How cruel could he truly be, or irrational for the matter? It was almost hard to believe this powerful man was the quiet and serious boy he played with in his childhood. Was everything he had learned then just a pretense, and this was what the true Akashi was like?

He couldn’t help but frown at that conclusion. 

They continued his grooming in silence. The voices from the hallway softly trickled through, escalating every now and then when the heir clashed aloud with his two officials. Gathering one of the books off the table, Kouki began to turn the pages and idly skim the material. Anything to divert his attention from the strained atmosphere present as the three were forced to listen to the heated discussion from the hallway. He sighed, flipping another page and trying to zone in on the words before him, but it was a futile attempt.

Kouki switched his concentration to mull over the next issue that popped into his head. Did this mean he was to stay locked in his room for the time being? The servant had been kind enough to bring him suitable reading material, but even after a while, staying in a place for hours on end would become stale. He knew from the head chamberlain he wasn’t allowed to trek toward one end of the palace, but what about any other parts?

He cleared his throat, assuming he would grasp their attention.

“If I may ask,” he began, tone slightly timid, “is it a problem if I tour the palace? I don’t want to get in his highness’ way, and I know I’m not allowed to go to one part, but what about anywhere else?”

The woman lodged at the table tapped a finger to her cheek, peering over at the one brushing his hair. They caught each other’s gaze before nodding in unison, puzzling him.

“You can go to the courtyards. Akashi-sama is rarely on the outside. I don’t see how that would be a problem.”

The other servant confirmed her suggestion. “Yes. He’ll be with the council throughout the day, so he won’t even be anywhere near the area. The back acres have a wonderful garden. It’s the only area his highness assures is well taken care of.”

Kouki’s eyes widened in awe. A garden? It had been forever, or at least it felt like it, since he had been able to sit beside a wonderful display of flowers or even to hold a bundle of roses to his nose and inhale the fragrance. The thought of venturing to a place with a few books and sitting in the sun for the remainder of the day was enough to bring a grin to his face. Perhaps there he could forget the stress that had begun to crush him by escaping to a world that truly made him happy.

The argument out in the hallway slowly faded away, the thought of knowing there was a sliver of light in this drab situation, damping his ears to the disturbance. Somewhere, out there lost in the patches of blossoms, once he was able to caress their petals once more. He restrained his eagerness, anxious for the two to excuse themselves from aiding him so that he could rush to the garden they spoke of.

“That would be nice,” he whispered, “I think I might go there.”

* * *

 

Once he was able to break away from the various servants sent to be attached to his heels, assisting him with every little task, Kouki headed immediately for the place they’d mentioned. Truth be told, from the moment he’d heard about it, his heart had felt lighter, knowing there was an area like that he could escape to when needed. For all the gracious words bestowed on him when he’d first arrived at the palace as a guest, his freedom was sternly limited to a few spaces – none of them the type of atmosphere he preferred. This on the other hand, would suffice as a spot to pass the time until Kuroko’s return.

It had to.

Upon entering the garden’s leafy interior, his face shone with awe, drinking in the collection of flowers awaiting his careful inspection. All the blooms he’d ever loved and some he’d never met thrived there, planted in simple arrangements that happily contradicted the palace’s posh décor.

Kouki wasn’t sure where to begin. Though given the fact that he would be staying here for a long while yet, he decided to hold off on venturing further into the lush paradise, saving it for future afternoons. Keeping his visit simple, his eyes landed on a towering willow and he strode toward it, collapsing in its shade. Novel in hand, his plans were set.

Curling contently at the base of the tree, the branches draping down shielded him from the brazen rays of the sun, keeping him cool as he delved into a world of fantasy. The longer Kouki lay there, the more he wished he’d known about the garden from the start. Though there was a much smaller one at his home now, it paled in comparison to the sprawling grounds set aside here. He truly felt that were this his, he could have spent every afternoon here, rain or shine. It set him at ease to a degree nothing else did.

But even the best places can’t be kept to one’s self. In the midst of his reading, he heard footsteps lightly approaching and gazed upward to find the head chamberlain smiling down at him.

“There you are, Kiku-sama. I’ve been wanting to check in with you to see how you are acclimating to life here. Given your name, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you’ve found the garden. There are many beautiful flowers here, aren’t there?”

Squirming into a sitting position, the masqueraded boy gingerly arranged his skirts before answering.

“There are. It’s really pretty out here.” Tilting his gaze down, he added softly, “Also, it’s all right. I’m fine, Mibuchi-san.”

Turquoise eyes zoned in on the timid response, reading it as somewhat false. The reason as to why she’d try to cover up what she really felt, Reo was unsure of. But as the one in charge of everything that happened within palace walls, he felt responsible for her comfort.

“Wonderful,” he replied crisply, plastering on his brightest expression. “Feel free to enjoy your time out here whenever you like, Kiku-sama. I’m certain his highness would say the same. I apologize for my brief appearance, but there are some other rounds that I have to make now.”

Checking to see that his lie was acknowledged, the chamberlain turned on his heel and departed, next destination well in mind. If it was at all possible, he hoped to implore his stern employer to be a proper host. Kiku appeared at ease in the gardens, but Reo sensed there was great discontent brewing within her. Perhaps if she had more to entertain her, it would be a different story. Keeping that goal in mind, he swept rapidly through the hallways of the palace until he reached the royal’s quarters.

Only to be hindered once he entered said quarters by the sounds of Seijuro raving aloud to himself. Closing the door behind him, Reo strode forward, catching the tail end of an impassioned statement about how if he had to endure one more monotonous council meeting, he was prepared to toss one of his advisers out the window. Sizing up the heir’s mood, his optimism dwindled, but his spirit was not entirely extinguished. It would just be an uphill battle to obtain what he wanted.

Eventually noticing there was another presence in the room, Seijuro turned to face his servant. “And what do you want?” he inquired, audibly irritated. “I wasn’t aware there was anything I asked you do at this hour.”

“There wasn’t, my prince. I have a matter I want to discuss with you,” Reo spoke, donning his most earnest tone.

Despite the performance, he witnessed Akashi's stare grow unamused as he got the words out.

“Quickly get to the point, Reo. I am of no mind to listen to any long-winded tales now. I’ve had quite enough of that today from the old buzzards that sit on my council.”

Discouraged by the other’s statement, he fumbled for a moment. After all, what he wanted to ask wasn’t something he could spring on him without any preface. He had to lead into the suggestion, and so, at the risk of infuriating his employer any further, the head chamberlain decided to continue as he’d begun.

“Just a while earlier, I ran into Kiku-sama in the gardens, and I got the impression she’s still not adjusting here. I was hoping that maybe you could ease that burden for her.”

Stepping back to survey what impact he’d had, he was disappointed to realize that Seijuro was gracing him with a wary stare, as if questioning his motives. Clearly, his objective was not as straightforward as he’d imagined. He’d have to actually spell it out to the frazzled ruler.

“Maybe you could join her for dinner this evening, make her feel more welcome—”

“I have no interest in entertaining guests, nor is it my duty to do so. That is your role in my stead,” Akashi groused, scoffing at the mere idea. “She’s only here until Tetsuya returns to pick her up, and that will be soon enough. Until he arrives, I have no intention of crossing paths with her. As I am sure she would prefer as well. From what I’ve seen, she’s the type best left on her own.”

“But...”

He paused, stifled by the prince’s ruffled mood. Akashi was often hopeless when he reached this height of anger, but something in Reo didn’t care presently. Brewing momentarily, he almost gasped when a new solution popped in his mind.

“You were just saying how you’d like for the advisers to give you breathing room, your highness. Forgive me for bringing this up again, but were you to have dinner with Lady Kiku, they would have to respect your privacy for that hour….”

The prince’s irritated demeanor loosened at the final words. While it was true that he wished nothing more than to escape the old morons on the council and allow time to himself, he would still be within the presence of others. Akashi sighed heavily. It wasn’t as though the girl was a nuisance, given she had stayed out of his way this entire spell, but the thought of having to play nice with someone he only remotely knew when he was in this sour of a mood, was a recipe for disaster.

Still, an hour away from the council did sound splendid.

“Very well, you win. Go and see that everything is arranged. I suppose I have no other option.”

He rolled his eyes at the large smile, wondering why his head official was so intent on granting merriment to a complete stranger. Nonetheless, he now had a perfect excuse to cancel the upcoming meeting for the evening, and he had every intention of delivering the news to them immediately.

Now, if only he could think of more similarly helpful excuses, then his peace could be salvaged.

* * *

 

Heedful as to not rip off the man’s arm, Kouki clung to it closely as Reo escorted him toward the dining hall. He peered up at the head official and then quickly reverted back to the floor as though to watch his countless skirts skim the carpets. Truth be told, Kouki wasn’t nervous about greeting Akashi head on, but more so on how he decided this was the moment.

He would finally reveal to him there was indeed no Kiku.

At first, when Reo returned to the garden several hours later, Kouki had politely declined the invite. He was easily satisfied with having his meals within his rooms and without the presence of others, but the head chamberlain was persistent. And not wanting to disappoint such an gentle soul, Kouki capitulated and hesitantly agreed.

They approached the grand doors to the dining hall, his arm still entwined with Reo’s as they stepped inside. Glancing around, he noticed none of the staff seemed familiar to him, but the same awkwardness prevailed when they bowed beside him. He was then guided toward one of the chairs at a rather expansive table, Reo pulling the chair out and seating him properly.

“His highness should be along shortly.” Reo offered a cordial smile, stepping to the side to mutter to himself. “He has to show up. This would be extremely disrespectful.”

Drinking in his surroundings, Kouki was amazed at how the dining hall appeared twenty times larger than his bedroom. And, quite frankly, he'd felt that room was over the top. If this one was this massive, he wondered what other parts of the palace had to be like, and if he'd get the chance to venture into them one day.

His thoughts were curbed by a set of footsteps. The crown prince stepped in the room, the servants throughout it scrambling to his side. But he simply cast them aside, whisking past them as he walked down the aisle. Seijuro's expression was unapologetic, seemingly uncaring that he had joined the meal so late.

“I was detained.” He peered over at the head chamberlain who only sighed. “There were more important matters to take care of.”

He strolled toward the chair at the far end of the table and seated himself. Dismissing the servant who had crept to his side, Seijuro revolved his gaze, focusing on the girl seated a few chairs down from him at the table. She was oddly quiet, a bit too quiet for his liking, and if he was to have her presence for the next hour, she would acknowledge him.

“Kiku, was it?” His brow rose when he noticed her jerk forward. “What of your last name?”

Refusing to look the heir in the eye, Kouki’s gaze lowered, finding solace in the pattern of the lavish floors beneath them.

“I don’t have one, Akashi-sama,” he mumbled.

At the eccentric response, the prince veered back in his seat, inquiring, “Oh? And why is that?”

“I’m not so sure,” Kouki confided, his volume subsiding even further.

He couldn’t have been more frustrated by the flood of questions. Each and every one had the air of arrogance behind them, whether Akashi meant them to sound that way or not. Kouki was at his wit’s end, torn between a growing anger, and a sinking feeling in his stomach. His initial purpose for coming here tonight was seeming more and more impossible as the minutes ticked on. How could he ever expect someone such as this to listen to him, even if they’d had a close relationship as children?

“Being in a place as large as this must be overwhelming.” Seijuro folded his hands, resting his chin on them. “Tetsuya’s manor is nothing small, but the size cannot compare to the palace.”

Though it wasn’t framed as a question, Kouki couldn’t help but feel the weight of expectation upon him. If this was Akashi's manner of making small talk with him, then he’d have rather remained ignorant of such truth. As things were, he had no idea what to say to half the things launched at him, and the more he struck, the less he could fathom ever confessing his identity to the ruthless heir sitting before him.

“To be honest, I’m surprised how attached Tetsuya is to you. He was never one to take notice of commoners, or most people at all.”

This opinion, Kouki was skeptical of. After all, if taking notice of a commoner was such a bizarre occurrence, then how did he explain them? As he now knew, the impending emperor had been so bewitched with him as to search for him to this very day. That seemed to contradict what he was saying now.

Mibuchi moved from his settled place. “Your highness,” he hissed in his ear, “Perhaps you shouldn’t be speaking of that. You are more than aware as to why.”

Silent in unison, the lone dinner guests stilled as the servants placed steaming platters before them. Kouki fidgeted endlessly, realizing how much his discontent was multiplying. If the interrogation placed on him wasn't overwhelming enough, the emotionless stare Akashi was bestowing was. He reached for the fork, grimacing at how befuddled he was at which one of the three he was to use for the current dish.

Seijuro continued to stare at him as time sped on, offering him a glance of what was a mix of pity and astonishment.

“I would think that for someone as high ranked as Tetsuya to take notice, he must have discovered you in a somewhat decent place. There aren’t many of those around.”

A clatter of a fork hitting the plate was heard. Kouki swallowed thickly, feeling the queasiness emerge as his mind was transferred to the once dark place he had endured. He placed a hand on his chest, rising from his seat and bowing as to not seem disrespectful.

“P-Please excuse me. I’m not feeling very well.”

Mibuchi watched in horror as the girl fled, his gaze shifting to the bewildered soon-to-be emperor.

“Sei-chan! Did you really have to say all that to her?" 

He flinched when the impending ruler slammed his fist against the table, disturbing the fine china resting on top to the edge. Akashi closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging his pulsating temples. Tipping back in his chair, he freed an annoyed gust of air, eyes sliding open to narrow at him.

“I told you this was a terrible idea. I told you that from the moment you spoke of the damn suggestion!”

Before Reo could utter a word, Seijuro had risen from his chair and stormed out of the dining hall. He peered over at Hayama, who stood there with widened eyes, his expression one of total bewilderment. Hefting a long-suffering sigh, Reo cast him one last glance and fled through the doors to derail the infuriated prince before he wreaked any more havoc.

* * *

 

A splash of cool water might have diminished some of the heat, but it didn’t soothe the queasiness in his gut, nor heal the pain in his heart. Although he knew Akashi had intended no harm, his words had triggered those horrifying memories he wanted nothing more than to destroy for good. He swallowed heavily, trying to push aside the nausea. His breathing was uneven, nearly panting as he attempted to regain his composure. Kouki wasn’t sure if the wetness on his face was the droplets he had splashed on or his own tears. At this point, why did it matter? 

“Calm down, Kouki,” he whispered, “Calm down. Stop thinking about that.”

Gathering whatever sanity he had left, he trudged from the washroom and back into the bedroom. His steps were shaky, the heel he wore only managing to amplify his already unsteady movements. He needed to calm down before he ended up cracking entirely, but his body refused to quell its trembling. His mind was in control; nothing could tear him from the memories that held him captive.

He halted on the way to his bed when he caught sight of his disastrous reflection. Kouki stared in horror as he noticed the makeup he had carefully placed day in and day out had begun to loosen and drip down his cheeks. No, this had to be restored as soon as possible or his cover would crumble instantly. Rushing toward the vanity, he seated himself in front of the mirror, shakily reaching for the cosmetics that were still laid out on the polished surface.

The brush he had managed to grip onto only crashed to the floor moments after when a knock resounded throughout the room.

Steeling his nerves as best as he could, Kouki rediscovered his voice. Perhaps it was one of the servants visiting him for their routine check, and maybe they could help him reapply his mask without them noticing the truth. Using that as the motive, he whispered a weak ‘come in’ and allowed the visitor entrance.

His eyes magnified when he caught sight of who now stood in the room. It certainly wasn’t anyone he had been expecting. In fact, it was the last person he had been anticipating to walk through that door. If he were to calculate a list of all the terrifying moments he had experienced in his life so far, Kouki knew this would be in the top five.

Once the prince matched his gaze in the mirror’s reflection, Kouki quickly shifted his attention toward the floor. Why? Why had he bothered coming here? Akashi was never, from what he had learned from being in the palace for not even a week, one to admit his mistakes, so why? The expression he wore was not one of regret or of sorrow, rather, it accomplished nothing but enhancing his fearful image.

He couldn’t have been yearning for Kuroko’s presence any more than he did in that moment.

Akashi remained silent, the chilling aura surrounding him only amplifying the tension in the room. Weighing his options, Kouki glanced in the mirror to notice the door was still open, and wondered if there was a way to get past the figure standing before it. His knuckles colored white as he gripped the edges of the vanity. What was the worst that could occur if he did try?

“I am unsure of the reason for your abrupt exit,” Seijuro began suddenly, his tone oddly placid. “Though I’m not certain if it was anything I said that upset you, I do apologize if you were harmed in any way.”

Kouki stumbled at the apology, his response tangled in his throat and refusing to break free. Wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place? To be alone with Akashi so he could reveal who he was to him? That had been his original motive, but now he wasn’t confident about how the prince would react. Although he had discovered relics of their past and learned the story from the head chamberlain, Kouki hadn’t witnessed a hint of sorrow in those mismatched eyes, only anger, and at times, exhaustion.

The heir sighed at the lack of response.

“My intentions were not to make you uncomfortable, if I did so. In fact, this whole dinner was the design of my idiot chamberlain. It never should have happened in the first place, and quite honestly, I would have preferred it if things had stayed the way they’ve been going for the past few days. As I am sure you can imagine, given recent events, I am far too tied up to be entertaining guests.”

The words washed over him like a freezing rain, soaking him to the core as his mind wrestled with whether to trust them or not. Kouki refused to turn around and face them head on; that would be more than his fragile psyche could bear at the moment. If he had had any choice in the matter, this conversation would not have been happening when it did. He was unprepared. He was also terrified. Terrified of the past, and more than a little intimidated by the man addressing him now.

But as silence resumed, he realized with a start that Akashi was waiting on him to answer.

Collecting all his will, he whispered, “I understand. It’s fine. Please, I’d like to be alone now.”

Seijuro observed the hunched form for a moment before dropping his own shoulders in surrender.

“It’s a pity your visit to the palace has been an unpleasant one.” Kouki tried not to cringe at the detached words. “You shouldn’t worry, though. Tetsuya should be returning within time, and then you will be free to leave.”

With that shallow utterance, he was gone, once more granting the masqueraded boy his solitude. He listened as the door clicked softly behind Akashi’s exit, and then returned his focus to the mirror. His eyes were once more tear-logged, Akashi’s parting words and polar composure only adding to the misery welling up within him. There was absolutely no point in revealing who he was. All that remained was to endure the rest of his stay until Kuroko came to whisk him back into his warmth and safety.

Sighing, Kouki turned from the vanity, glancing at the closed door and then back to the books on his table. Perhaps he would seal the locks and retire for the night; his stomach would most likely concur with that. Burrowing into bed with one of the whimsical books to calm his mind sounded like a fine plan.

Only he didn’t count on the heir bursting back through the door without a sliver of patience.

“I don’t appreciate when someone refuses to look at me when I am speaking to them.” If possible, his tone was even more glacial than before. “I offered you an apology, and you refuse to obtain direct eye contact with me?”

If his stomach had managed to bottom out within the few moments of silence he obtained, it certainly was a raging storm then. Kouki swallowed hard, trying to combat the bile that threatened to crawl up his throat, and shifted his gaze to the side. Now he was certain, this was definitely one of the most frightening moments he had ever experienced.

“And yet you’re still doing it!” Akashi’s anger was only escalating. “Is there something you wish to say as to why you’re behaving this way?”

As he took a step forward, Kouki’s memory flashed back to his past, his hands reflexively shooting up to defend himself. His eyes squeezed shut, forehead wrinkling as he pressed them as close as possible. But for some strange reason, Seijuro had grown silent, and that was enough of a reason for him to unveil his gaze. He quickly chanced a glance at the heir, noticing he had become immobile, his gaze locked on Kouki’s right hand.

“… Where did you get that?”

Akashi’s tone was raspy, as if disbelief and shock had mingled in with his irritation.

“… Get what?” he inquired quietly.

The heir roughly grabbed onto his hand, shoving it toward his face and startling him to the bone.

“This! On your finger! Where did you get this?”

Disoriented by the aggressive behavior, it only took Kouki a few moments to realize what exactly he was referring to. The tassel that the once prince had separated in half to produce a small yet cherishable trinket. How could he have forgotten about that?

“… Someone gave it to me,” he muttered.

Akashi’s heterochromatic eyes seemed to lose their disbelief, narrowing instead at the timid response.

“That is impossible. That material is only one I possess, so answer again, with the correct one. Where did you get that?”

Despite how terrified he may have been or how ill he felt, Kouki was becoming restless of this game. How many times was he going to have to repeat himself before the other accepted the answer? Someone did give it to him, and that was the truth. At least partially.

“I just told you!”

“And I told you that was impossible. Who gave that to you?”

Was this the chance he had been waiting for? Even if he had backed down only minutes ago? Could he finally tell Akashi that he—

“Answer me!”

“… _You_ did.”

His voice was almost impossible to detect, but the future ruler heard it as clear as day. Akashi’s expression was one of a mixture, dark brows furrowed and mouth twisted into a horrible frown.

“Excuse me?”

Kouki didn’t bother to conceal the droplets churning in his eyes, nor did he halt them from dripping down his cheeks. The memory of the affectionate and compassionate ten-year-old prince as he tied the string around his finger was bittersweet. It was something he could grasp onto as he presently faced the same boy, only ten years older, and more fearsome than he could’ve ever imagined.

But still, despite how alarmed he may have been, this intimidating man was still that boy.

“… you did… a really… long… time ago….”

Seijuro’s face dissolved from menacing to bewildered as the reply sunk in. Kouki could only look on as various emotions possessed the prince’s noble features, his thoughts racing to comprehend what he’d meant in giving that answer. The masqueraded boy dared say no more, dared not interrupt whatever was going on in Akashi's mind of minds.

Abruptly, Akashi leaned in, mismatched irises piercing as he appraised the other’s features, intently studying every line. Staring past the ruined makeup, his eyes briefly sparked as they fixed on Furihata’s, recognizing the same humble quality he had always adored. He stretched out a hand and took ownership of the masqueraded boy’s jaw, tugging until they were properly aligned and gazing at each other straight on. 

When the royal spoke once more, his voice was shakier than he'd ever heard it be.

“… Kouki…?”

 


	5. Chapter 5

A mild breeze fluttered through an open window, rustling the bouquet of pale roses on the table. Sky-blue eyes stared as the petals swayed gracefully before resuming their usual look. Kuroko sighed quietly, the roses only reminding him of the delicate flower that was miles away. Voices continued to ring all around him, speaking in never ending tones, but they only seemed to fade into the background. Even when one was repeatedly shouting his name.

But after minutes of constantly being interrupted, the distraction was proving a bit bothersome.

“Oi! Tetsu!”

Calmly, and as though he hadn’t been in a trance for the past few moments, Kuroko turned to face his servant.

“What is it, Aomine-kun?”

Daiki graced him with one of his usual huffy expressions. “You’ve been staring into space for an hour now! It’s beginning to freak me the hell out!”

Kagami kicked him in the shin, pleased when the other yelped in return. Unseating the darker male from his chair, he watched as Daiki’s rump connected with the ground. He then dusted the chair off, seating himself and gracing his superior with a concerned frown. What could be causing him to act this way, and for days now?

“I think what the idiot means to say is… are you okay, Kuroko? Something seems to be on your mind. It’s been awhile since you’ve seemed like yourself.”

Kuroko sighed, transferring most of his weight onto his decorated cane. His gaze aligned once more with the blossoms before them, a weak smile trickling on his lips.

“I am worried about Kiku-san. It’s the longest she has been away from me, probably the only time she has, and I am concerned for her well-being.”

Taiga frowned. “There’s no need to be, Kuroko. You left her in great hands. I’m sure Akashi will take care of her.”

“Akashi?” a blond suddenly interjected, “As in the crown prince?”

“No longer the crown prince,” another man with jade colored eyes corrected, “I heard his father passed recently, so I assume he’ll be taking his place rather soon. I do hope it’s not within the next few hours. The stars predict misfortune for his sign.”

“Shin-chan,” another voice sighed in a long-suffering manner. “I really wish you would stop depending on the stars so much. It’s not as though they can tell you every little thing.”

Said man only rolled his eyes. “You are a fool, Takao. A true fool, indeed.”

The abrupt news only managed to boost the duke’s already elevated anxiety. His grip on the cane tightened, his knuckles whitening by the pressure he was clenching them. Kuroko rose from his spot at their table, pushing his chair aside to stand at his full height.

“Perhaps we should leave then. Kiku-san is in the midst of all that. I don’t want—”

But Kagami’s arm had shot out to keep him in place.

“Kuroko, I wouldn’t worry so much. I’m sure Akashi knew well about his father’s health, and yet he still allowed the agreement.”

“Bakagami is right.” Aomine ignored the glare in return. “You need to calm the hell down, Tetsu. Once this boring meeting is over, we can get back to her. She’s in the damn palace. She’s probably having the time of her life.”

* * *

 

Though he wondered how it could have risen as high as his throat, Kouki could now sense his pulse drumming throughout his ears. The air was thick with the sound of erratic breathing, but he wasn’t sure which one was his and which belonged to the man before him. His gaze was fixated on anything but Akashi’s expression, instead choosing to focus on the gold and crimson fabric that garnished the prince’s elegant form.

He was far too skittish to connect with those heterochromic eyes that he knew were staring at him with turmoil of emotions.   
  
The hand that was cupping his chin had tightened gradually, the silky pads of fingertips pressing into his moist skin. Yet it still continued to tremble, and Kouki was convinced that in all the time he had known Akashi - aside from when he spoke of his mother- that he had never witnessed him this unraveled.   
  
He desperately wanted to pacify the situation, but all impending words had become tangled on his tongue. Although it was his intention from the beginning to reveal to Seijuro who he truly was, Kouki never wished for it to play out quite this way. The whirl of emotions he was currently undergoing were only enhancing his queasiness, and the wavering nerves that lingered to keep him in place were slowly beginning to diminish.   
  
But before he could conjure up his next plan of action, the prince asked yet once again.  
  
“Kouki?” Though his tone was now but a whisper. “… My Kouki?”  
  
The hope laced in Akashi’s voice was what shattered his last bit of reluctance. He then shifted from his view of the silken robes to return his gaze, but he was nowhere near prepared for what he encountered.   
  
Akashi’s eyes were in disarray, yes, but they were beyond what he had imagined. Ever since he’d resided in the palace and began to learn the true identify of his childhood friend, Seijuro’s eyes had always seemed icy, calculating. Now, the warmth and the fragile anticipation churning in those mismatched eyes was enough for Kouki’s pulse to accelerate.  
  
Still, as much as he yearned to speak, his voice had definitively vanished and showed no trace of returning. Kouki was beginning to feel foolish, and the prince’s intense scrutiny wasn’t making it any easier. He swallowed thickly, now discovering how impossible it was to break away from their connected vision. But all he could do was stare ahead in thick silence.  
  
That was, until he was tugged forward. A faint yelp managed to escape his lips before he was secured into Seijuro’s warm embrace.   
  
Shocked and immobile, he vaguely heard the prince mumble something. But given that Akashi’s head was buried in his dark tresses, it was impossible to discern. Wiggling slightly, Kouki rested his cheek against the soft fabric, his eyes closing as he inhaled the other’s nostalgic scent.  
  
“Do you have any idea,” Akashi began, voice swaying with emotion, “how long I’ve searched for you? How many days, how many sleepless nights that I spent wondering what happened to you? If you even lived anymore?”  
  
As the last of the declarations left his lips, Kouki’s hazel eyes brimmed with fresh tears. His arms wound around the prince’s shoulders, pressing his face into the side of his neck and closing his eyes. Akashi moved slightly, but only enough to secure the hold on him.  
  
“Why?” he whispered into the false mane, “I’ve been looking for you for years, and here you’ve been right under my nose. Why would you hide such a secret from me?”  
  
The interrogation prompted Furihata to raise his head. His eyes fluttered, but remained closed, continuing to indulge in the haven of Seijuro's neck.  
  
“You’re not one to talk,” he mumbled.  
  
The feminine pitch in his tone evaporated, the sudden alteration causing the prince to retreat. Kouki flushed when Seijuro graced him with a bewildered expression, and then angled his gaze downward.  
  
“It would have been odd to sound like this since I was a girl…”  
  
But that wasn’t the reason for the other’s confusion.   
  
“What are you referring to, Kouki? Why am I not one to talk?”  
  
Slender fingers once more captured his chin, using the opportunity to lever his gaze from the floor. Kouki flinched when he realized how close their faces were, cursing his heart when it once more began to pound loudly within his chest.  
  
_Stupid heart. Shut up!_  
  
“Kouki?”  
  
His internal scolding ceased, realizing Seijuro was awaiting his response.  
  
“You too were hiding who you really are. Never once did I think you were….”  
  
Akashi only sighed.  
  
“If you had known who I truly was, you would have treated me differently.”  
  
Kouki fervently shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t have.”  
  
The impending ruler chuckled as he recalled how dinner had progressed. Remembering the details of it, the grin faded, realizing how he had wounded him with his countless harsh questions. If he had known at the time, he never would have….   
  
“If you can recall, you called me ‘Akashi-sama’ at dinner. So, yes, you would have.”  
  
Kouki’s hand rose as though to protest. “Not if I knew before! It would have been completely different then! If you—”  
  
He was curbed by a digit pressing to his lips. A bit startled by this, Kouki leaned back against the vanity, watching as Akashi pulled away and returned to his former position.  
  
“No,” he continued, “it wouldn’t have been.”  
  
Rising from the floor, Seijuro reached for the other’s hands and carefully hauled him to his feet. Kouki stepped gingerly, only to have the heel of his shoe snag on the vanity’s curtain. He yelped as his balance dissipated, stumbling toward the wide-eyed royal. Akashi’s arms shot out as though to steady him, but by then, Kouki's entire form had lurched forward.  
  
When he realized what had occurred, Kouki quickly scurried from the prince’s chest, bowing repeatedly to implore for forgiveness.  
  
“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Petrified didn’t define his state. He had never been the daintiest on his feet, and the heels only added to that misery. And now he had just shoved the soon-to-be emperor onto the floor. He scrunched his eyes shut, awaiting the tongue-lashing he had become so accustomed to when he disobeyed one who was superior. And, though Seijuro was one whom he cherished, the man’s rank was the highest of all.

So the last he was expecting was to be soothed by the prince’s lips. He tumbled backwards, cheeks ablaze and eyes bursting with shock.

“W-what was that for?!”

Akashi didn’t seem fazed by his hysteria. “Isn’t that what you were waiting for? Why else would you close your eyes?”

“That’s not why....” he mumbled, “I thought… I thought you were going to yell at me.”

He wasn’t sure if Seijuro’s expression was horrified or baffled. Either way, he seemed to despise his answer.

“What? Why would I do that?”

Akashi frowned at the lack of response. Peering over at him, he realized Kouki's head was still bowed. What could have occurred that made his precious one so submissive, so fearful? No matter what it would take, he had every intention on discovering what had transpired throughout the years of their separation, even if he himself was afraid to learn the truth. He moved from his reclined position, sliding back until he was pressed against the wall. Once satisfied, he held open his arms and beckoned for the sullen Kouki.

“Come here,” he coaxed.

Kouki weighed the command internally, his body rebelling against the proposed closeness. Though this was Sei, he so rarely liked to make contact with other people. Traitorously, his mind urged him to move forward, offering a counter argument. Add into the mix the longing in his heart, and soon he made his choice.

Cautiously inching closer, he allowed himself to crawl into the man’s embrace, once more taking up residence against the other’s shoulder. Akashi’s fingers danced lightly against his back, seeking higher until they were able to grasp onto the silken tresses cascading down his shoulders, mindlessly combing through them in a calming gesture. With each caress, Kouki could feel his pulse begin to ease, resetting to a more placid rhythm. The silence was so pleasant that he was rather surprised when his long-lost companion sought to break it.

“I never wanted to lie to you, Kouki. I only wanted you to know me as plain Akashi Seijuro. Not the crown prince, not the future emperor, not even anything to do with the Akashi name, but that much I had no control over. I didn’t want this title attached to me. I never did, and I realized how much I truly didn’t when I met you. You gave me a world where I was just Akashi Seijuro.” He paused, a weak smile molding onto his lips. “Sei, if you can recall.”

As he listened to the prince’s explanation, Kouki could feel the wound that had always existed beneath the surface begin to slowly seal. Though it stung to know Seijuro had concealed his identity, at least now he knew it wasn’t intentional. The birth of a smile graced his lips at Akashi’s last statement. Oh, how he remembered. That nickname had haunted many a dream of his over the years.

“Now that I have told you my reason, what is yours? Why have you adapted to this disguise, and why are you with Tetsuya?”

The abrupt question threw him off guard. Having expecting Seijuro to continue narrating his tale, this inquiry was the last he wished to answer. He glanced down, finding the patterns on the prince’s robes more intriguing than their present conversation. Yet he knew Seijuro awaited his answer, so he very slowly forced himself to return the favor as best as he could without revealing the whole tragedy involved in it.

“… Kuroko-san was the one who found me.”

Bewildered by the vague response, Akashi gently eased him from his shoulder, shifting him until their gazes aligned.

“Found you?” His tone matched his expression. “What do you mean ‘found’ you? When I came back to our usual spot weeks later, you were gone. In fact, your whole house had been cleaned out.”

That was a memory he didn’t wish to revisit. Kouki inhaled softly, trying to fend off the impending storm within, but it was futile. His eyes pricked with tears, the view of Akashi growing cloudier.

 “… M-my mother passed a week after you stopped coming to meet me....” He shifted his gaze when he caught sight of Akashi’s remorseful features. “… After that, since I was alone … I was sent to another part of the country.”

The prince bowed his head. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know how that feels.”

Furihata offered him a watery smile. “Yeah, you would….”

“If I had known, I would have—”

He placed a hand flat on Seijuro’s chest as though to prevent him from rambling into another tangent.

“It’s not your fault … Sei.” The name creaked on his tongue, having been so long since it was used. “You couldn’t help what happened.”

Akashi wasn’t convinced. “But I could have. If I had only told you who I was, if I had been able to keep you in my grasp.”

“It couldn’t be helped,” he whispered, “Please don’t put yourself at fault.”

Heavily sighing, Akashi reluctantly discarded his words to focus on the next mystery. The one that had been pestering him ever since he learned Kouki was the one who was hidden beneath these countless skirts.

“Then why the disguise? Does Tetsuya order you to dress this way?”

Kouki shook his head repeatedly. “Of course not. Kuroko-san has been nothing but nice to me. He treats me with the greatest of care.”

Seijuro’s mismatched eyes glowered, but only for a second. Given the way Kouki had answered the question, and how respectfully he spoke of Kuroko, now was not the time to allow his jealousy to surface.

“I see. Then why? What is the reason for it?”

Kouki swallowed the lump in his throat. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but he should have known. Should have known that if he didn’t give Akashi the answer he wanted, that he would continue to press. But what he didn’t know was, by doing so, he was only opening up another wound that Kouki had been trying in vain to close.

“Please,” he whimpered, “Don’t make me tell you this now. Not yet.”

The sudden fear laced in his tone only enhanced the prince’s concern.

“What happened to the spunky, adventurous boy I once knew?” He frowned, brushing a stray lock from the other’s frightened eyes. “The one who was willing to do everything?”

Furihata curled into himself before forming an answer. “He’s long gone. He has been for a while.”

Tugging on the other male’s shoulders until he’d restored him to a kneeling position, Seijuro stared deeply into his eyes, ensuring that what he had to say would be well heard.

“Kouki, I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, “I’m sorry for how poorly I’ve treated you these past few days, especially tonight. I’m sorry for not realizing you’ve been here all along.”

“You didn’t know—”

Once more a finger was placed to silence him.

“But most importantly … I hate myself for making you think I’d ever abandon you. To make you think you meant absolutely nothing to me, when you are everything to me.”

The dam he had been resisting against snapped. Kouki’s watery eyes relented, permitting the tears to slide down his cheeks. Akashi lifted his hand, brushing them away with the pad of his thumb before coasting it up toward the corner of the other’s eyes. He smiled crookedly, inhaling shakily himself. Foreign though it was for him, he could feel his own emotions welling up strongly.

“All that matters is I’ve found you again, that you’re here with me now.” Akashi's grip only tightened. “And I have no intention in letting you leave my side. Ever again.”

Kouki sobbed, nudging his face into the royal’s chest as he allowed years of heart-wrenching memories to consume him. The tears only doubled when he realized Akashi was trembling as well, securely holding him as he allowed their emotions to mingle, and clung to each other after years of separation.  
  
And then all he could do was clutch at Seijuro’s robes, drenching it with his tears as he latched onto the one he’d once believed was only a bittersweet memory.

* * *

 

Trekking through the halls, Reo searched in multiple directions for his enraged ruler. After Akashi had stormed out from their botched dinner, Reo wasn’t sure what other catastrophes awaited. When it came to controlling his temper, Seijuro was regrettably unskilled, as almost everything nowadays seemed to tick him. A part of him he had inherited from the previous emperor.

From what he had seen in the past few days, Kiku was a delicate girl. One who didn’t wish to get in the way of others, reserved, but would easily agree if one asked her for a favor. And though he was almost positive Akashi was dreading the dinner, _he_ had pushed him to go through with it, ending the abridged meal in complete mayhem.

“A mistake on my part,” he mumbled to no one but the air.

Reaching the doors that guarded the future ruler’s quarters, Reo knocked lightly. Once he had disappeared from the dining hall, there was a vast chance Seijuro had retired early, but Reo would risk being lashed out at to speak to him. After all, it was his nudging that caused him to agree, and he was more than willing to apologize.

“Your highness?” He knocked once more, frowning when they remained closed. “Sei-chan? I’m coming in.”

The doors slid open easily. A bit of a surprise as when Akashi wished to be alone, even if Reo requested entry, he’d lock them from the inside. Glancing around the spacious room, he uncovered no trace of the perturbed ruler, which only enhanced his concern.

“I’ll try the throne room and then the stables. He couldn’t have gone to the village. His commoner’s clothes are still here.”

Reo froze in his tracks, halfway toward his destination. There was no chance Akashi would be within the throne room, not when he was riled up as he currently was. In this mood, he required complete isolation, and the stables would definitely be a place for that. He always seemed to find tranquility while riding his prized steed.

But when he reached the doors to the back grounds of the palace, he found the lock still secured in place.

Now was the perfect time for panic.

“This isn’t good. Not good at all. Where in the gods name did he go?”

As he was debating his next route, he passed by their guest’s room. Mibuchi sighed. Perhaps he should assure Kiku wasn’t too distraught about Akashi’s crude actions. Although he knew she was one to keep to herself, it was the least he could do, to make amends for the royal’s behavior and assure she was settled.

It was strange that the door to her room was cracked open. Reo could only assume one of the servants had been passing by to assist Kiku in any of her needs. He eased it the rest of the way open, using the faint candlelight along with the glow of nightfall to guide him toward the table where the girl would usually be found reading comfortably. So when he uncovered a vacant table, he turned toward her slumbering quarters, not expecting to find her peacefully dozing.

Nor was he expecting to find the missing prince to be the one she was lying on.

“Sei-chan?!” he whispered harshly, hoping it was enough to rouse Akashi, “Sei-chan!”

Akashi shifted, but only to nestle his face further into the long tresses of the girl’s hair. Reo bit his lip, pacing as he quarreled with himself on what to do about the situation.

“I wanted him to apologize to her! Not sleep with her! Damn it, how did this happen?”

He massaged his pulsing temples, ceasing his frantic motions long enough to notice how peaceful Seijuro’s expression was. One he hadn’t seen on him … since well, never. There was something too bizarre about this entire situation, and Reo knew right now it wasn’t his place to be here. The next time he crossed paths with the impending ruler, he would question his whereabouts, but for now….

“This should be an interesting story in the morning,” he sighed in defeat and then quietly closed the door, leaving the two entangled in the realm of dreams.

* * *

 

Kouki’s dreamless slumber was intruded by a faint rustling. Inching open his swollen eyes, he focused on the blurry form of one of the servants roving about his room. His hazy gaze then switched to the fluttering curtains, observing the morning light filtering through. Almost instantly, his mind whirled into action, eyes widened as he scurried to glance beside him.

But Akashi was no longer there.

His heart sunk. So it had been a dream after all. A wonderful dream where Akashi discovered his real identity, and the two of them had made amends before resting together, worn down from the turmoil of emotions they shared.

“Good morning, Kiku-sama.” The overly cheery voice of the servant made him cringe. “Your door wasn’t locked, so I figured permission was granted to enter your room, as per our agreement.”

Kouki hummed in response, wishing the woman would disappear from the room for the time being. All he wanted to do was curl up and wallow in misery, hoping he could somehow fall asleep again. If he could orchestrate it, he’d experience that same wonderful dream and be within Akashi’s embrace again, even if it was only an illusion.

“Yes,” he murmured, “Good morning….”

Gathering his bearings, Furihata trudged toward his vanity, careful not to trip over the blanket around his shoulders. He seated himself on the cushioned chair and stared ruefully at his reflection. Dried, black tracks of makeup blemished his pale skin and the false head of dark tresses was in ruins. Pacing his breaths, he tried not to recall when Akashi had sat on the floor with him, surrounding him with his warmth.

This was by far the cruelest dream his mind had ever projected.

But his misery was instantly forgotten when the door once more swung open. Hazel eyes widened, catching sight of the crown prince standing in the doorway through the mirror. Akashi glided silently into the room, appraising the servant with a loathing glare.

“Out.”

There was no hesitation. The second the command left his lips, the servant scurried hastily from the room. Kouki could once more feel his heart pulse to life. Was it a dream, or had Akashi truly been there? His breathing constricted as he watched the impending ruler trek toward him with an irritated expression to match his recent behavior.

Yet, the instant he reached him, that irritation melted, replaced by concern. Akashi laid a hand on his shoulder, his silky fingertips bearing warmth to his trembling frame. Now he was certain. Akashi had indeed been with him last night. The scenes his mind had generated had been reality after all.

“Your face,” Seijuro spoke, causing a bewildered glance in return. “It’s encased in black.”

Kouki reached up to try to scrub the marks from his skin, but was halted by the prince’s hand.

“Sit there.”

He watched as Akashi disappeared into his washroom, listening as the taps ran for a brief second. Once the sound of water ceased, he reappeared with a cloth in hand, approaching the half-drowsy and bewildered Kouki.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly.

Turning his head in the other’s direction, Kouki tried not to flinch when Akashi began to scrub the botched makeup from his face. Between his tears from the chaotic dinner and his emotions unwinding during the events after, Kouki was certain every shred of eye makeup he had placed on for the day was now sprawled out over his cheeks.

When his face was cleansed, though tinged red a bit, Akashi placed the cloth down to return to leaning over his side. His fingers sought the small box on the vanity’s top and glanced up to receive permission from the other’s reflection.

“Is it in here?” Kouki nodded. “May I?”

Again he nodded, watching as Seijuro shuffled through his travel accessory box. His wandering hands paused when they captured cool metal instead of the tiny stick of the eyeliner, and pulled out what was one of Kouki’s golden pieces. Frowning down at the article, the man lifted it from the box to place it on the vanity’s surface.

“Tetsuya has lavished you well.” His compassionate tone had vanished entirely.  “He has exceptional taste. Though, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Kouki shivered. Why did Akashi sound so… so resentful? Was there something about Kuroko-san he disliked? Were they somehow foes even though they had greeted each other days back as sufficient acquaintances? He was about to allow his mind to whirl with countless questions, but the prince had once more caught his reflection, his lips molded into a hideous frown.

“Kouki.”

He tried not to blush at the intense stare in the mirror.

“Y-Yes?”

The frown was still in place. “What is your relationship with Tetsuya?”

Was it really that much of a surprise that this question had arisen? With how Akashi had reacted to his narration last night, Kouki should have assumed the topic of Kuroko would resurface. Once again, his brain spiraled with numerous scenarios, wondering what the best way was to explain who Kuroko truly was to him. Given that Kuroko and his disguise were linked together, he had to select his words very carefully.

“I can see your expression in the mirror.” Akashi’s tone was once more sour. “It easily reveals your answer.”

Kouki’s eyes widened. “N-no! I was just thinking!” The glow in the mirror only enhanced his jitteriness. “Um… I-If you mean if we’re… like… _that_ … we’re n-not.”

Seijuro’s lips twitched in response, but no words were voiced. A light knock interrupted them then, Akashi shifting to glare at the door when one of the servants swung it open. She graced them with a trembling smile, nodding to both occupants at the vanity and then addressed the impending ruler.

“What?” he snapped, “What could you possibly be bothering me about now?”

She bowed her head repeatedly.

“Do forgive my intrusion, sire, but one of the council members is here with an urgent request. He was wondering if—”

Furihata cringed at the savage growl that emerged, quickly retreating his stare from the inflamed prince. The hand that was lingering on his shoulder tightened slightly, but he knew it was merely a reaction to the disturbance. Chancing a glance up, his large eyes studied the crackling, mismatched ones above. Akashi’s spare hand then moved from his side to rest on the top of the false mane, gliding his fingers through it in a soothing matter.

Glaring at the servant’s reflection, he sighed heavily and leaned down to whisper into the unsettled Kouki’s ear.

“I’ll be right back.”

Akashi nudged past the servant, dismissing them before trudging in the other direction. Absorbed in his thoughts, he nearly collided into his head chamberlain who had been loitering outside his doors since he had left this morning, He nodded in greeting, passing by Reo with no concern and continued his journey toward the throne room.

“Wait! Sei-chan!”

Pausing in midstep, the crown prince granted his attention for the moment. Reo rushed forward, his expression apologetic.

“There was a bit of an issue this morning. One of the men have become ill, and I’m afraid we won’t be able to conduct the search until later on.”

Akashi’s dark brow rose. “What is this search that you’re speaking of, Reo?”

The chamberlain was flabbergasted. “W-what? You know exactly what search it is! It’s the same one we’ve been doing for years!”

His eyes flickered in recognition. “Oh, yes. That.” Akashi merely shrugged. “That isn’t a concern, and we will no longer be doing those.”

Reo’s eyes were wide, a horrified expression gracing his face as he stared at the soon-to-be emperor. What on Earth could have transpired between him and Kiku that he had now abandoned his entire routine? A routine he dedicated his very life to, to discover where his beloved jewel had disappeared to?

“Now if you’ll excuse me, one of the idiots from council is here to bother me so early in the morning. We will speak later.”

The chamberlain watched as he resumed striding off as though the conversation never existed. Reo leaned against the wall, attempting to ease his frazzled state as Akashi’s words sunk in. For years, he had led searches to find Furihata Kouki, and now after so long, in just a single night, he no longer cared?

Gathering his wits, Reo rushed after him. Whether Akashi was in the mood or not for some meddling, he was going to get to the bottom of this. There was absolutely no way he would forget about someone he treasured so deeply.

To do so was almost to become someone else.

* * *

 

“You don’t think I’m being a bother?”

Reo graced the masqueraded boy with one of his dazzling smiles. After he had hounded Akashi to demand what was transpiring, he had finally learned the reason for the prince’s strange behavior. While it was a relief to know he would now hopefully be at ease, there were still a few loose ends that Reo knew were still going to be a bit of an issue.

“Of course not, Kou-chan! Sei-chan is thrilled to have you near him again.” A large grin molded onto his lips. “I think you can easily see that.”

Thrilled was an understatement. In all the years he had known the prince, he had never seen Seijuro so elated, so at ease. With the discovery of Furihata’s whereabouts and the fact he was within his grasp, Reo could assume the crowning ceremony that would take place within a few days would no longer be as difficult as it once was. Although, he was certain that Akashi didn’t wish to become emperor, at least now the burden was lessened.

“What are you two doing out there?” Akashi’s voice was suddenly heard.

The two peered over the mounds of blossoms to see the prince and two servants standing in the entrance way. Reo waved, causing the other to roll his eyes before they angled toward the darkening skies.

“It’s about to rain, Kiku.” Akashi’s tone was steady, yet firm. “You should come inside. I can’t have my guest becoming ill.”

He paused to glance behind him and noticed the two women had vanished from his side. It was a hassle having them trail him after the council meeting and to be honest, he wasn’t sure why they did. Sighing of relief, Akashi’s demeanor completely shifted, as did the name on his tongue when he called out to the garden once again.

“Kouki, I really don’t wish for you to catch a cold. Please come inside.”

He noticed Kouki's gaze had shifted to the flowers. Of course, how could that have slipped his mind? They were something Kouki adored; it was the only reason he himself had planted so many. To remind him of the missing boy he yearned to find each day. It was no wonder he was outside, despite the impending foul weather.

Entering the gardens, Seijuro approached the tree that the two were nestled against and knelt down.

“If it’s flowers you want, then I’ll take you somewhere else. Away from the rain.”

Kouki frowned. “But, there’s no other place other than outside.”

The prince chuckled. “That’s only what you believe. Come, I’ll take you there. Once it stops raining, you’ll be allowed outside again. I won’t have you catching a cold.”

Beneath thick lashes, Reo watched as the two departed from the gardens just as the rainfall commenced. Typical of Seijuro to come to the rescue when the storm started to brew. Leaning against the bark, he jerked his head forward to rid his dark locks of the pristine raindrops, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 “Kou-chan,” he sighed to himself. “You just might be the miracle we’ve been looking for all along... I hope.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**_A tiny figure tiptoed down the dimly-lit hallway, their footsteps resounding against the chiseled pavement. The putrid scent of rotten meat pierced their nose and caused their stomach to churn, but it wasn’t enough to halt their journey. Opposing their intuition or the fact they could be caught at any moment, they trudged on until they reached a more illuminated area. The silhouette glanced behind them to assure they were alone before sitting down on the cool ground and staring at the cracks in the wall._ **

**_Kouki frowned. Usually by now his small friend showed up. He had constructed a routine to save the crumbs from his evening meal and venture down the corridor each day around seven o’ clock. It was a time he treasured and looked forward to, even if it was a risky trip to make._ **

**_Squeak!_ **

**_“Oh, there you are!” he giggled at the sudden presence, “I was wondering where you had gone!”_ **

**_Reaching into his pocket, Kouki offered the mouse a few crumbs that remained._ **

**_“Sorry if it’s not much. It wasn’t easy to get to. I don’t think Huino-sama is in a good mood today … then again, he never is.”_ **

**_He watched as the mouse nibbled happily, his eyes shifting to the moonlight slithering through the cracks in the wall. When was the last time he was able to gaze up at the moon or the twinkling blanket of stars? The stars that, as he sat on in her lap one evening, his mother told him were the souls of those closest to them that had passed._ **

**_When she had passed on, Kouki had been certain she too was up there, but ever since he was brought to this place… he’d been unable to view her radiance anymore._ **

**_At least until last week. While on an errand for his master, he had run into another boy of a similar age. Fifteen-year-old Kuroko Tetsuya had noticed him at one of the stands and, to Kouki’s surprise, had begun conversing with him. Eventually this led to Kouki revealing his situation, even though he knew it was forbidden to speak of it._ **

**_But for some strange reason, he trusted that boy._ **

**_Compared to Kouki, Tetsuya was regal. With his silken attire and elegant posture, he created a gleaming image of perfection. Though his sky-blue hair always seemed a bit unkempt, in Kouki’s eyes he was beautiful. At the time, the only one who had ever captivated him so much was the crimson-and-golden eyed boy that he’d met many years ago._ **

**_The one who vanished._ **

**_His heart elevated to his throat when footsteps echoed from the corridor. Kouki leapt to his feet, shaking off the crumbs his little friend didn’t consume. How was that possible? He was almost certain no one had seen him discreetly sneak away, and he had been completely silent._ **

**_A light shown in his face, the flare of the lantern causing him to cringe momentarily. Bracing himself for the worst, he inched open his eyes to discover another boy he had spent most of his time with. His pulse eased at the recognition, but his stomach still bubbled from lingering anxiety._ **

**_“Furi. Is this where you’ve been? I’ve been looking for you since Huino-sama has gone to sleep early. Not feeling well, I guess.”_ **

**_It was almost impossible to not break out with joy._ **

**_“H-has he?” The other boy nodded. “I’m glad, but why are you walking around, Fukuda-san?”_ **

**_“Looking for you,” he repeated with a sigh, “You shouldn’t be down here. You could get in serious trouble, and then….”_ **

**_Kouki swallowed thickly. He didn’t need to hear the rest, as he knew it too well._ **

**_“I know, but I’m waiting for someone….” He noticed Hiroshi was gazing down at the mouse and laughed slightly. “Er, someone else, that is!”_ **

**_“Do you mean that blue haired guy?”_ **

**_Kouki nodded. “Yes. Kuroko-san wants to help, so he said he would be back later today.”_ **

**_The other boy looked at him strangely. “You still don’t get it, do you? I told you the day you came here, there was no escape. There never will be.”_ **

**_Watching the mouse scurry back through the cracks and to freedom, Kouki lowered his head with a sigh._**

**_“I know that,” he whispered, “But I also know Kuroko-san doesn’t break promises. He’ll come, I know he will….”_ **

“Kuroko-san.”

Akashi paused in his reading to glance down at the dozing form in his lap. It wasn’t as though Kouki hadn’t been babbling in his sleep for the past hour, but with the utterance of that specific name, he now knew who he was dreaming about. And he’d be lying if the thought didn’t rattle him. Try as he might, it was difficult to overcome each time the man’s name rolled off his beloved’s lips, whether it was intended to harm him or not.

Breathing a sigh, he placed the book aside to study the masqueraded form cuddled in his lap. Even if a few days had elapsed since Furihata’s revealing, he still insisted on sheltering the truth from him. It was irritating, to say the least. That Kuroko had more knowledge about Kouki than he.

It wasn’t as though he wasn’t grateful for Kuroko, especially when he had unexpectedly returned Kouki to him. But the fact the duke knew exactly why Kouki harbored this disguise, why he was so reluctant to speak of what happened after they were separated, why at times he seemed as though he was awaiting to be lectured and apologizing for events that weren’t his fault….

All that only frustrated the prince.

Another murmur ceased his inward ranting, and he reached to tug Kouki back into his lap when he unconsciously flopped forward. Once settled, Akashi noticed that the sudden movement had disturbed the false tresses, the wig nearly topping from its crowned point on Kouki’s head. Suppressing his chuckle, he reached to restore it to its rightful position, when something caught his eye. 

Carefully trailing a finger from a thin eyebrow to the top of his hairline, he traced over what appeared to be a deep scar. How peculiar. He didn’t recall such a mark on Kouki when he had last seen him years ago. Kouki was always rolling in the dirt to where his bangs were pushed aside, and never had he seen such. This mark was fairly new, and had to have been produced within the last few years.

His mind began to whirl with scenarios on how this could have occurred. Was this the reason for Kouki’s disguise? Were there more deep scars such as this? The thought sickened and angered Seijuro, to know something or someone could have bestowed such marks on his precious one.

“What is it that you're hiding, Kouki?” He frowned as he pulled him closer. “… What is it that you won’t tell me?”

* * *

Akashi yawned, fingers drumming against the table as numerous voices continued to wave around him. The same monotonous voices that never spoke of anything new, but the same drivel day in and day out. Leaning back in his chair, the scenery before him grew smudged as his eyes began to droop. Right now, he would take Reo lecturing him about his recent behavior rather than sitting here and listening to these old goats babble on a second longer.

Becoming emperor was a nuisance, as far as he was concerned. Not that being the crown prince was a joy either, but the role of the emperor was even more troublesome. At least when his father was still alive, he rarely had any responsibilities aside from learning his future role. But this, this was a chore that he could do without.

Aside from the whole matter being a bore, he had scarcely had any time with Kouki. What little time he had obtained was easily ripped away by another one of these humdrum meetings that lasted for hours. And while he knew they were of importance to his crowning tomorrow, he didn’t see why they had to be so repetitive. He already knew the requirements, as they had gone over it at least six times in the past two days, so what was the need to continue having these?

“Seijuro-sama!” The surface vibrated as a hand slammed against it. “I would appreciate if you paid attention! This is for your own—”

“Yes, yes,” he mimicked, “It’s for my own good. You repeat the same words every single meeting. I’m sick of hearing it.”

The head elder blew a gust of air. “You’ve already cancelled several meetings this week. This one is urgent.”

Seijuro only rolled his eyes. Of course he had cancelled as many as possible. With the discovery of Kouki, and after enduring years of agony without him, he didn’t plan on wasting a single second that he could be at his side.

“I’m aware of that. I’m also aware tomorrow is a rather important day that I don’t wish to experience, but that’s beside the point.”

The others froze at those words, directing their quivering gazes to the head council member who was staring back at the prince with irate eyes.

“You’re not doing this?!” he bellowed, “It’s a bit too late to decide that now!”

Akashi resisted the urge to reach across the table. “Are you going deaf in your old age, or are you just an idiot? Where did I say that? I said I didn’t wish to, not that I won’t. I have no choice for this matter, now do I?”

How dense were they? It was obvious he didn’t wish to do this, but it had been imprinted on him since his birth. There was positively no way out of this, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

The elder’s gaze only hardened. “Very well then. I suggest you pay attention so that the proceedings are smoother.”

It was the prince’s turn to sigh. “And I just finished telling you that you’ve done nothing but repeat your words each day. It’s the same ridiculous instructions at each meeting. Is there a point to this, or do you simply gain merriment from speaking to me until my ears have exploded?”

“Seijuro-sama, this is not a matter that is meant to be taken lightly.”

Akashi fought to not bang his head. Now he was sure they were extremely dense. Almost as if they themselves - or at least the head honcho - were clueless about what the preparations were. And though he had learned them years back when he was forced into training at a young age, they insisted on running their mouths until, hopefully, one of them passed out.

A grin molded onto his lips at the latter thought. If only fate would grant him such a request, though he knew luck was never on his side.

The royal shook his head. No, luck had been on his side.

While everything else may have been going straight into the ground, Kouki was at least safe and within his grasp once again. At this point in time, and probably from now and until forever, that was all that mattered. His attention shifted to gaze at the curtains blowing next to him, the evening breeze stirring his crimson locks. The day was pleasant, too pleasant if you asked him. One that should have been spent with a certain brunet out in the gardens.

“But no,” he muttered to himself, “I’m stuck listening to these morons.”

He ceased all ranting when once more the elder’s piercing gaze was aimed at him. The man had a personality equivalent to his father’s. Constantly bickering over the same subjects when he didn’t even understand the concept himself. Once he was emperor, he was going to do an extreme revamp and construct the council himself. He was the highest of all, so what was the problem?

A sudden bang once more disrupted his musings, and he reverted his gaze back to the same set of eyes. If he was going through get through this, he was going to need to pay attention, or at least look as though he was. As long as they hurried through the rest, there would be some time left he could have with Kouki.

Even if it was just for a few more moments, it’d still be the best thing he’d encountered all day.

While Seijuro was barely retaining his sanity, Kouki was once more wandering throughout his quarters. Yet again he had been confined to the spacious room, this time because the prince had been hauled off to a meeting with the council. For the time being, he was under Reo’s care, who had vanished from his sights for about half an hour now after assuring he wouldn’t be too far away if needed. And though he had grown quite fond of the head chamberlain, Kouki was relishing the granted solitude.

Having spent the entire morning with Akashi, between touring parts of the palace and venturing to the outer grounds to where the stables were, he was exhausted. Somewhere along the line, he had dozed off, and woken up to Reo glancing down at him.

Or more so, the head chamberlain informing Seijuro of the meeting he was to attend to… and Kouki just happened to be in his lap. _Happened_ to be. Kouki rolled his eyes at knowing after he had fallen asleep, Akashi had taken him back to his own quarters to partake in a few hours of reading while he continued to sleep.

He was slowly beginning to learn just how bold his childhood friend could be.

… Not that he didn’t enjoy being encased in that warmth, but being discovered by the head chamberlain in such a position was humiliating.

Once Akashi had departed for the meeting, Kouki was escorted back to his own quarters without a single word exchanged between them. Briefly he wondered if Reo was trying to decipher the scene he had walked into, though Kouki was hoping that wasn’t the case. Perhaps he was simply being respectful, or even better, had written the entire matter off.

But now he was bored, having combed through the pile of books on his table multiple times. Journeying over toward the window, he peered out and noticed how it was still pleasantly sunny. He could venture outside to the gardens and enjoy the scent of the blossoms, but he didn’t wish to bump into Mibuchi. At least not for a few hours, that was.

How long did council meetings last, anyway? Seijuro had to be practically dragged to each one by his head chamberlain, all while arguing about how they were completely pointless. And try as he might, Reo couldn’t convince him otherwise. It had been the gentle nudging of Kouki himself that had made him comply. Although he knew the role Seijuro was about to take on was the most important of all, he was now beginning to realize what Akashi had meant when he said he wished for him to know him as plain Akashi Seijuro.

Akashi despised being the crown prince, and completely loathed the idea of becoming emperor. Kouki wondered if he would be able to go through with tomorrow’s ceremony, or if he would reject the role.

He froze at the horrifying thought. Even if he despised it, there would be no way he could do that, especially not in front of thousands of people.

Pacing around in circles, Kouki’s attention switched to the other man he thought so highly of. Kuroko had been gone for about a week now, and though certain rocky events had been resolved, Kouki still missed the duke. He wondered how he was faring, and if he would soon be concluding the business he had attended to.

“And then I can go home.”

It wasn’t that the palace wasn’t grand enough, but he missed his room back in the manor. But the problem with that solution was, if he were to truly return home, then what of Akashi?

He’d never see him again… and after all that had occurred, Kouki wasn’t sure he had the strength to part from him a second time.

A knock resounded throughout his chambers, and he quickly granted the caller access, allowing in two of the servants. His brows furrowed at barely recognizing their faces, but shrugged off the thought at the usual warm smiles.

“Hello, Kiku-sama,” one spoke, “We’ve been put in charge of you for the evening.”

The taller of the duo nodded. “But I’m afraid we have a few errands to run, and we can’t leave you alone. So if you would accompany us to the village, that would be a big help.”

Kouki faintly frowned. Where was Reo, and why was everyone else so busy that he had to leave the palace? Traveling into the village was alarming enough, but as the evening approached? The thought only made his stomach clench with fear.

“Kiku-sama?” the taller one asked, “Is that all right? We won’t be long, but the ones in charge of gathering supplies for the night have suddenly taken ill, so it’s our duty to. We don’t wish to leave you alone since everyone has left for the evening.”

Weighing his options, the masqueraded boy realized there was no choice. Yes, he was terrified of the village, but to be alone in a place as large as this? At least if he were to go to the village, there would be companions by his side, and they did say it was only for a few errands. Perhaps a short trip to the outside wasn’t bad… after all, it was better than being cooped up in his room all night.

“Sure,” he murmured hesitantly, “I don’t mind.”

But only for a small while.

He hoped.

* * *

Emerging from behind the iron doors that had held him hostage for the past few hours, Seijuro gusted out an irritated sigh. He might not have the strength to do much, but his frustration continued to flourish even now that the dreaded meeting was done with. The things were more tiresome than they had been previously, the mounting deadline of his coronation causing his advisers to try repeatedly to press more information into him by the minute. Why, he could not fathom. It wasn't as if he wouldn't still be at their mercy once the crown rested on his head.  
  
Rubbing at his weary eyes, the prince set off down one of the main hallways, his destination not his own chambers, but those of his beloved's. If there was anything that could perk him up, it would be the healing embrace of Kouki's arms around him. Aside from that, he had a few other pursuits in mind that he wanted to do.  
  
As he turned the next corner, he found his path blocked by the presence of another, similarly weary-looking man.  
  
"Reo?" he questioned aloud, brows narrowing slightly as he recalled how he'd felt utterly thrown to the wolves in the last meeting. "Where exactly have you been all this afternoon?"  
  
"Ah," short of replying further, the head chamberlain paused, donning a long-suffering pout before continuing. "Sei-chan, I was dragged off by another portion of the council. They had all these last minute questions about the details of tomorrow's ceremony. I'm exhausted now!"

"Mine was eerily similar," Akashi commented dryly, reaffirming in his head how glad he'd be when the spectacle was over. "Everything is in place then as far as your preparations?"  
  
A sigh. "Yes, like I've told them so many times, everything is under control. There will be no hiccups. All you need to do now is make sure you're well-rested, Sei-chan. It's going to be a long day for everyone tomorrow, so no staying up late!"

Not that it would guarantee Seijuro would follow his orders, but he could at least try to guide him in the right direction.

"Yes, yes," Akashi answered dismissively, loathe to delve deeper into the topic. "Moving away from all that, would you happen to know where Kouki is at? There's a few matters I need to take care of with him before anything else."  
  
Eyeing the prince skeptically, Reo placed one hand on his hip, itching to let on that he was well informed of his true intentions. Still, he knew he would only incur Akashi's wrath were he to lead him on any sort of wild goose chase when it came to the masquerading boy. Much as he knew it would only lead to further shenanigans, he had to be truthful.  
  
"The last I saw of him today he was with the servants in his room. As I was abruptly asked to join a meeting," Reo emphasized pointedly, "I've no idea what he's up to at the present hour."

When his chamberlain's answer sunk in, worry surged immediately through Seijuro's veins. Normally he could count on Mibuchi always being around to make sure that Kouki was well-provided for, and that no one bothered him or learned of his true self. Though the possibility was small, what if something had gone awry when Kouki was left alone with the idiot servants that were in the palace's employ?  
  
Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to be where his treasured one was. In future he'd make sure that either he or Reo were always around, his counselors be damned. It was far too risky otherwise.  
  
Setting off in a daze, Seijuro ignored Reo's fading protests and sped off in the direction of the masqueraded boy's chambers. If luck was on his side, Kouki would be enjoying his evening normally, and he could simply join him in passing the time. He hoped fervently that would be the case.  
  
The prince arrived at the front doors a few breathless minutes later, heart thudding anxiously as he knocked on the portal to gain entrance. Akashi waited, but no sounds issued from the other side of the door; there was no hint of a response. Frowning slightly, he pondered the occurrence.  
  
It was possible, given the hour, that Kouki had already gone to sleep. After all, they'd made no concrete plans to get together this evening, so it wasn't as if he'd stay up in the hope of seeing Seijuro later that night. If he'd grown tired, perhaps fallen asleep in the midst of reading, then that couldn't be helped. And if that was the truth, then of course Kouki wasn't going to be alert enough to answer his knock.  
  
Deciding to steal a brief glance of the slumbering boy to assure his frazzled nerves, Seijuro edged the door open gently and slipped into the shadowy room. A single candle was the only light source, its soft glow illuminating as far as the table it sat upon, but no further.  
  
Akashi debated picking it up to aid him in reaching the bed without tripping over any of the other furniture, but then decided against it. Kouki might be able to keep asleep even with the clamor of him fumbling around the room blindly, but having a candle so near to his eyes was sure to awaken him. He would simply have to search in the dark.  
  
Steeling himself, he advanced deeper into the quarters, trying his best to estimate where a clear path to the other's bedside would be. For a few, tentative steps his memory served him well, allowing him to pass his way through the front part of the room with no calamities. As he approached the designated sitting area however, his fortune ran out.  
  
His pace quickened by his growing anxiety, Seijuro winced when his leg collided with one of the plush chairs decorating the room. Assuring himself that it was a minor concern, the royal continued on until suddenly the floor grew a lot closer to his face than before, his body lurching forward as he launched face first over a footstool that was clearly not where it was meant to be. The pesky piece of furniture dug into his stomach as he landed halfway on it, and Akashi had half a mind to retreat to retrieve the candle after all. He'd grievously underestimated just how dangerous Kouki's quarters could be.

By some grace he made it unscathed to the edge of the large, four-poster bed, and he smiled softly, the thought of pressing a kiss to the sleeping boy's face filling him with anticipation. Seijuro briefly entertained the idea of slipping in behind the other and falling asleep with the one he loved most in his arms. He couldn't think of anything that sounded more divine than that.  
  
Except when he popped his head in through the curtains drawn round the bed, there was no Kouki to be found.

Panic encircled his lungs, his breathing strangled in wake of the startling discovery. What peace he'd felt instants ago was now torn to shreds. Something was not right, and he'd be damned if he let him slip from his grasp again. Not after all the torturous years of separation he'd already had to endure. The heavens willing, Kouki would remain at his side for the rest of their lives.

Too fretful to care much who heard him, the heir rushed to check every inch of the suite, including the balcony, calling out Kouki's true name as he searched. Akashi's mind soon clouded over with fear as he realized that he'd looked everywhere and there was no trace of where Kouki could have gone. Had something terrible happened in those few hours he didn't have eyes on his beloved?  
  
There were few options he had left, but he'd look there at once and hope that Kouki would be waiting there for him in either the library or the gardens. Those were the other places he tended to frequent, and Seijuro's last hope.  
  
Taking off into the hallway at breakneck pace, Akashi turned the corner and nearly collided with none other than his chamberlain.  
  
"Sei-chan!" the other chided, " You need to be more careful- hey, what are you doing running around, anyway? I told you to go to bed.”

Truth be told he'd figured his orders would be ignored in favor of going to visit the one who his master's heart beat for. Still, after he'd even gone to the trouble of doing extra work just to set the man's nerves at ease!  
  
Following their conversation, Reo had decided to investigate, if only to win himself back into the royal's good graces in time for the ceremony tomorrow. He needed Akashi to cooperate if they were all going to make it through the coronation in one piece, and if he was able to assure the prince that nothing unfortunate had happened while he wasn't able to watch the boy, that might earn him enough brownie points to suffice. Only, neither of the servants that were supposed to be occupying their guest were present when he tried to locate them.  
  
Now that Akashi was standing before him, Reo wasn't eager to share the results of his inquiry.  
  
"Kouki is gone," he exhaled shakily, a frantic expression revealing itself to the chamberlain as they made eye contact. "Do you…." His breathing took a moment to steady. "… have any idea where he could be?" His heterochromatic stare shuttered. "No, I know you don't have any more information. I just...."  
  
"I regret to say it, but I'm not sure where the servants he was with are either right now. But of course I'll help you search," Reo soothed, gnawing on his lip as he tried to brainstorm what needed to be done.

"Then check the library. I'll go to the gardens," the heir hastily instructed, leaving before the other could utter a single word in response.

Heart still racing, he dashed forward, hoping beyond belief that Kouki had simply wanted a chance to rest amongst the flowers now that the weather had improved. He'd been discontent at the many days of rain that had prevented him from going, so perhaps he'd taken a chance to visit the gardens while they were dry. Either that, or he hoped his chamberlain would discover Kouki nestled safely in the library, buried in a mountain of books.

Because if neither option prevailed, then that meant that something truly was wrong.

Seijuro plodded into the moonlit space in record time, determined on solving the mystery once and for all. He knew he never should have left him alone, clearly this was his reward for being so careless with the precious gift that had been given to him - his second chance. If he was allowed another, he'd be ten times more cautious than before.

"Kouki! Kouki, are you out here? Answer me!"

No response was forthcoming, and it only magnified the pit of dread forming in Seijuro's stomach.

Shell-shocked by everything that was occurring, he dragged himself inside, praying that some good news would be delivered to him soon. He could feel himself beginning to revert to the state of depression he'd experienced all those years ago when he'd found the boy's house wiped clean and him absent from it. The sheer loneliness in his soul threatened to return, threatened to hit him worse the second go round. Memories of that time resurfaced, flashing him images of the abandoned home in the crowded village....

The village.

Akashi's mind snapped immediately to attention with the new brainwave, and before he knew it, his feet were already carrying him in that direction. If there was one other place Kouki could have possibly ventured off to, that was it. Why didn't he think of that to begin with? After being cooped up in the same few rooms of the palace, he wouldn't be surprised if Kouki had wanted to branch out and explore.

_Kouki, please be there_ , he wished solemnly, eyes focused straight ahead as he hurried outside once more.

As he made out one of the exits with the ferocity of a typhoon, Reo trudged around one corner of the endless hallways, catching a faint glimpse of crimson and gold as the prince shot past him. Considering the direction, he soon realized what Seijuro's destination had to be.

"Sei-chan!" he yelled futilely after him, feeling his own fragile nerves beginning to fray. "You can't go out there looking like that!!"

After all, it just wouldn't be a good thing were the villagers to be treated to the image of their future emperor racing around in full royal attire, calling out the name of what would appear to be a noble, unmarried female. He could begin to imagine the gossip that would originate over the incident, not to mention the fact that Sei-chan would appear like some sort of neon sign to the unsavory characters that sometimes lurked about, practically begging them to rob him of his fine garments and jewels.

Oh, he was going to throw a fit if the prince returned in one piece, and this time, he was absolutely not going to be talked down by Seijuro's collected manner! After all that he'd been through today, and throughout their years of acquaintance, Reo felt long overdue for a venting session. One that Akashi would be made to listen to whether he liked it or not. He certainly owed him more than he could ever repay.

“Come on,” he sighed at the two guards who had joined him. “We need to go after him before this gets back to the council, or even worse, the entire kingdom.”

* * *

The nightly breeze was crisp, and the flimsy sweater he had thrown on was scarcely providing any warmth. Regardless, neither were the reason for his shivering. Peering around the deserted marketplace, Kouki grimaced and shielded his face in his arms. The two servants who had escorted him here weren’t his usual helpers, as those ladies had the evening off today, but people he had passed by every now and then. Though he had only been with them for a few hours, he was learning they were anything but responsible.

Currently he was standing amongst the product stalls while the two women had wandered off elsewhere. From what he could see at his post, their trip to the village was not to run errands as they claimed, but to meet up with a stranger. Based on how they were responding, Kouki could only assume they had a deep infatuation with him.

So now he was alone, surrounded by the shadows that lurked in the night. Once more, he found himself here. Here in a place that restored terrible memories, ones he sorely wished he could erase.

Whimpering, he continued to shade his eyes from the world, hoping some miracle would whisk him away back to safety. A few times, he chanced a glance and noticed men lingering in the alleyways, their animalistic stares only enhancing his terror. His eyes began to burn, the tears pooling at the edges and threatening to spill over.

How he wished he didn’t listen and allow them to drag him from the palace. But they were the ones watching over him, so he supposed that he had no choice over what they wanted to do.

Off to the side, several feet away, one woman was glancing around nervously and then back to where her friend was busy chatting. She rocked on her heels, standing on her toes to peer over at the stands, and then tapped her friend’s shoulder.

“Kai-chan, we really need to get back. I’m sure the meeting will be ending soon, and if Kiku-sama isn’t—”

The other woman swatted her away. “Quit being such a baby. You know how long council meetings are. We have at least another few moments. This is our one chance, and you’re going to complain about it?”

“No, but—”

She was then crudely ignored, the other servant returning her attention to the sole purpose of their trip. Heavily sighing, she swiveled her gaze to where the young girl waited, but to her horror she was no longer there. The servant panicked, gesturing frantically to her friend to gather attention, but was once more cast aside.

“Oh no,” she breathed in horror, “Kiku-sama! Where have you gone to?”

Having his fill of the daunting atmosphere, Kouki had settled on trudging the path back to the palace on his own. Whether he would be lectured for disobeying later on, he cared not, but right now, he had to get out of here. All he wanted to do was stay in his room for the next few days and bury himself in the blankets. Being on the outside, especially at nightfall, always made him uneasy. And though he knew there were friendly and familiar faces throughout the village and from his childhood, he also knew that beneath that façade was something much more sinister.

Turning a corner, he encountered an blockade - or what was a rather burly man - who graced him with a busted smile. Kouki flinched at the absent teeth and the foul odors emitting from between the large gaps. He peered behind him, noticing it was only a stone wall on the other side and the lanterns that guided his way here were now dim.

There was no way around this unless the one blocking his path moved aside.

“Why aren’t ye’ a pretty thing.” His thick arm reached out to brush his short digits against Kouki's shoulders. “All alone, are ye'?”

The sensation of greasy fingers caressing him caused his stomach to churn. Kouki’s eyes slammed shut, his arms raising over his head as he tried to slump down the wall. The man’s hands were too much like _their_ hands, stretching to touch him in places he wished to keep sacred.

“Please don’t touch me,” he whispered.

He was tugged forward into the cage of the foul-smelling man's arms, his rancid heat spreading to his own skin at the proximity. Kouki's stomach protested more violently, and he began to squirm, hoping that he could break free and make some kind of run for it.

But that was when he heard it.

“Kouki!”

His head rose, eyes widening at the sudden shout. Had he truly heard that voice, or was his heart just yearning that someone who knew his true identity would appear and rescue him? Glancing over at the burly man who still had his arm around him, Kouki tried to slink from his grasp, but he was truly underestimating how much larger this man was compared to him.

“Kouki! Where are you?!”

Now he was certain that it wasn’t his imagination with how the sound was growing closer. His face morphed into one of disgust when the man leaned in, and he twisted his head to the side as he tried to avoid him a second time. The sound of footsteps was what made him pull away.

**_“Furihata-kun!”_ **

**_Kuroko ran toward him, a box in his hand that was a bit larger than him. The other teen's sky eyes were wide, concern and fear mixed in as he reached out a hand to pull him from…._ **

Kouki shook his head to omit the image, only then realizing it wasn’t Kuroko running toward him. It was the crown prince. Akashi, who was a day away from becoming emperor, was out in the village, lacking any concealment of any kind, and shouting his true name. The thought served to deepen his unease. Didn’t Akashi know what he was doing was risky? What this could cause, how others would talk?

But to the royal, it meant nothing. Even when he ceased running to stand before him, his face showed absolute concern not for any of those matters, but for him. Kouki tried not to shiver at how icy the mismatched eyes became as they focused on the arm still resting on his shoulder.

“If you do not remove your hand from her, I will personally cut it off.”

Even when the prince was in a foul mood, Kouki was certain he had never heard Akashi’s tone so venomous. Miraculously though, that was all it took for the weight on his shoulder to vanish and the presence that was next to him to step aside. He squeaked when he was swept forward, landing in the prince’s protective embrace. However, Akashi wasn’t in an affectionate mood. His narrowed gaze was still on the villager, forehead creased, and mouth twisted into a menacing scowl.

But by the grace of the gods, Reo had finally caught up. He stepped between the two men and nodded to Akashi, placing a steadying hand on his arm.

“Sire, please don’t cause a scene.” He turned to the man, knowing if he didn’t make haste, Akashi would surely advance. “I would prefer if you left this area, immediately.”

Obtaining shelter on Akashi’s shoulder, Kouki’s weary head was comforted by the silky fabric, easily luring him to sleep. He vaguely felt the prince shift him until he was staring up into the worry-soaked heterochromatic eyes.

“Kouki.” He was once more frowning. “Why did you come out here? And all alone, at night?”

The masqueraded boy shook his head. “I didn’t. The two servants, they—"

His answer was curbed by Akashi releasing him, placing him gently to one side.

“It _was_ them? Where are they? I will see to it—”

Before he could set off, the head chamberlain was there to assure his superior’s actions were kept in place.

“Sire, I will take care of that. You need to take leave.” He turned to the two guards that he had dragged along for the journey. “Escort his highness and Kiku-sama back to the palace, at once.”

Reo hung his head, watching as the two were released to the guards' protection. A heavy sigh gusted through his lips. The council was going to have a field day when they heard their soon-to-be emperor was out running through the village like a maniac, not to mention threatening a villager. He didn't blame Kou-chan for the prince's actions, but more so himself. The two servants he had given the responsibility to watch over Kouki were under his management. And though he knew Seijuro didn't blame him for his actions, he still felt he held partial fault.

Tomorrow, if they made it through the night, was going to be more complicated and hellish than he ever could have envisioned. 

* * *

Kouki's head was bowed as he mulled over the prior events. Even without a single word being spoken between them, he could sense Akashi's chaotic inner emotions threatening to spill over. When he'd found him in the village, his eyes had been piercing, without reason. Kouki could scarcely forget how they'd appeared; it both unnerved and convicted him.

Lifting his gaze, he spotted the prince seated nearby. The other was staring off into another direction, contemplating his main pursuit as well.  
  
They'd arrived back at the palace what felt like ages ago. After escorting Kouki to his quarters, Seijuro had disappeared for a short spell, more than likely having some sort of discussion with the chamberlain that was forever at his heels. Then he had joined him in sitting before the grand vanity, only failing to say a single word.  
  
It was then Furihata had decided he had enough of the silence. If Akashi wasn't going to spark conversation, then he would. 

“I’m sorry….”

He wasn’t even sure why he had said it, but it was better than drowning in this agonizing silence.

Akashi’s back remained pointed in his direction, but the other soon managed a short reply.

“For what? You did nothing wrong.”

Kouki’s lips sagged, and he bunched up the fabric of his dress in his hands. He knew that was the truth, but then why wasn’t Akashi able to face him? There had to be some other reason that he had yet to uncover, and as timid as he may have been, he pressed on.

“But you’re mad.”

He listened as the prince noisily exhaled, the reaction only showcasing how irritated he was.

“I’m not angry.” Was the abridged response. “At least not with you, that is.”

The masqueraded boy could only nod, deciding to leave it at that. Kouki racked his brain for a new tactic, but with how curtly Seijuro had been with answering, he figured it was in his best interest to keep quiet. He didn’t wish to provoke him anymore, yet sitting here with the royal looking away from him was completely awkward, and made Kouki feel smaller than usual.

But then by some miracle, Akashi spoke.

“Kouki. Do you have any idea how I felt when I couldn’t find you? To come back after dealing with those idiots all evening and you were missing? I searched all over the palace, and I still couldn’t figure out where you were. I thought I had lost you again … and then seeing you frightened and alone in the village, I….”

At the gingerly expressed words, Kouki slowly turned around to where he was facing the royal. Seijuro only remained in the same position, yet continued to speak.

“I wanted to annihilate the one who laid his hand on you, and if it hadn’t been for Reo, I probably would have. In that moment, I didn’t care about my status, my reputation, nor my actions. All that mattered was that you were safe. Losing you once was enough. I don’t think I can take it happening a second time. I can’t lose you, Kouki… not when you mean so much to me.”

About to reply, Kouki was then met with the tender, mismatched depths as Seijuro finally turned around. The prince’s hand closed the gap between them to sweep the dark tresses from his eyes, uncovering the teary hazels beneath. He graced him with a faint smile, trailing his hand from the false locks and down Kouki’s cheek where a tear had fallen. Delicately tracing the pad of his thumb against it, he brushed it aside, his gaze descending until they landed on his shoulders.

His benevolent demeanor vanished almost instantly, replaced with one of complete malice.

“You need to get rid of this dress. It should be burned immediately.”

Kouki’s eyes widened as he clutched at the fabric.

“W-what? But this is one of my favorites!”

“It was touched by a commoner. It needs to go.”

His nose scrunched in confusion. “But that’s what I am!”

The prince eyed him skeptically. “You aren’t anymore, and besides, there’s a huge difference between a commoner and filth. And what touched you is filth.”

Kouki resisted the urge to protest. Yes, he was a commoner. It didn’t matter if someone of high rank had taken him in and rescued him from the horror of a life he had been granted. It didn’t matter if he was within the palace and adored by the future emperor. He was still of that status, and he would forever be. That wasn’t something that was going to change, but half of what Akashi stated was correct. Within that village were people who couldn’t be classified as human, but more like monsters, something that was lurking in the darkness to turn someone’s night into complete terror.

“Okay,” he sighed, “You can at least wash it, but please don’t throw it away. I really like it. Kuroko-san….”

_Yes, yes_ , Kuroko-san gave it to him. Heaven forbid he eliminated anything the man gave him. Akashi bit his tongue to curb those acidic words from filtering through. Although he remained clueless to what Kuroko truly meant to Kouki, it didn’t ease the fact of how highly the boy spoke about him. It wasn’t as though he had anything against Kuroko, but he would prefer that Kouki’s heart was with one. Preferably him.

It was then he noticed Furihata’s head was hunched, once more displaying that he was ashamed of his actions. Actions that weren’t even caused by him. Akashi sighed, rising from the chair to stand before the quiet form and placed a hand against his cheek once more.

“Something as precious as you, Kouki, shouldn’t be tainted by filth.”

His heart nearly stopped at that line, his breathing becoming restricted. The words were almost laughable to a point he had to suppress himself from doing so. Tainted? It was far too late for that, as it had already occurred years ago.

Pushing the thought aside, Kouki had hoped the prince hadn’t noticed the sudden change. Or if he did, he hoped that he thought he was simply reacting to his words. Freeing himself completely from the daze, his nose wiggled when he noticed it was being tickled by something. Something exceedingly familiar.

He lifted his gaze when he noticed the other was now leaning down, his lips pressed against his forehead. Kouki’s eyes fluttered, his hands itching to reach forward and grasp at the prince’s robes, but remained inert.

Akashi then glided back, pausing mere inches from the other’s forehead. He lingered in that position for some time, as though sorting through his thoughts, deliberating his next course of action. Beneath him, still enthroned in the vanity’s chair, Furihata peered questioningly at the impending ruler, but before he was able to utter a word, the prince acted.

Summarily, he was met with a hooded gaze. Seijuro’s lips were slightly parted, enough for the warm breaths he produced to drift through and delightfully fan against Kouki’s cheeks. The masqueraded boy shuddered, once more discovering how hypnotic the other’s stare could be. Just how mesmerizing every detail about him was. His heart pulsated wildly, the vibration once more soaring throughout his ears. Yet, as soon as he was able to grasp some control of it, Akashi sealed the gap between them.

The kiss he bestowed was light, gentle, and fleeting. His lips then ceased their movement, though they lingered against those of Kouki, their noses pressed snugly against one another. Akashi’s eyes remained sealed, but Kouki could suss the other’s heartbeat from this distance, and was surprised to find it tranquil. The complete opposite of his own.

Soon enough, the troubling thoughts whirling inside the prince’s mind bade him continue. He pulled away, mismatched eyes fluttering open until they were once more drinking in the soft hazels that captivated him. And then, without a shred of a clue, he surged forward, melding them together more boldly than before.

Akashi’s mind continued to bait him as he rejoiced in the solidity of Kouki’s lips. Horrific memories flashed through him. The boy’s disappearance. Discovering him in the village alone and surrounded by the deviants of the night, void of a protective shelter. His mouth moved vigorously, his actions fueled by the tangle of emotions, along with his flourishing desire. In turn, Furihata’s hands coasted skyward until they were grasping the royal’s shoulders. Within Akashi's arms, he seemed hesitant, almost as if he was uncertain of whether he was performing the correct actions.

Heedful to not unravel their connection, Seijuro’s hands then rose from their locked position. Eyes sealed firmly and mouth still kneading, he easily cupped Kouki's jaw, using the advantage to deepen their embrace. Kouki whimpered at the alteration, clutching to the broad shoulders in his grip. The wistful sound that expelled from his lips only caused Akashi to wrestle with the urge to explore further. Kouki’s mouth was far too soft, enrapturing his every sense.

But given the risk of startling the masqueraded boy, and the fact Reo would most likely be barging in to lecture him, Akashi reluctantly began to slow his movements. If he didn’t cease this session now, there would be no chance that he would be able to later. Disconnecting their mouths, his eyes eased open, elated to find that Kouki's were still closed, displaying a picture of complete satisfaction.

Their breathing was heavy, practically erratic, and created the chorus that prompted Kouki to unveil his own gaze. He stared into the clouded depths before him, cheeks ablaze at the fervor visible in the other’s eyes.

Akashi’s attention roamed elsewhere, focusing in on how swollen and reddened Kouki's lips had become. He inwardly cursed the restrictions he had to abide, his heart wanting nothing more than to indulge in the heat he had to relinquish. Reverting his gaze to the voiceless Kouki, he flashed him a crooked smile, hoping it would help cement his self-control. The hand that was perched on his jaw ascended, deft fingertips brushing against the clammy skin and then circling around until they were sweeping over the inflamed lips.

“If I don’t leave you now….” Seijuro’s voice was hoarse, still attempting to recover the air in his lungs. “… then I never will, and as much as I wish not to, I must. For now.”

And then his lips were once more on Kouki’s forehead. Whether he was soothing the quivering boy or cooling his own desire, he didn’t know. He had allowed his emotions to dominate him, his mind taunting him with images of the night where Kouki had almost slipped through his fingers a second time. It was irritating enough that he had to curb his desire when around his beloved. But after this sudden rendezvous, all barriers that could have hampered them were now dissipating.

Soon there would be no divider standing between them.

When Akashi did move again, it was a retreat. The loss of warmth made Kouki wrap his arms around himself, and he debated on reaching forward to prevent the prince from leaving. But he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t be selfish. Akashi needed his rest, rest for what was probably the biggest day of his life, and that would only happen away from him. It was discouraging enough he was already exhausted and frazzled from being tied up with the council all evening, and then from the events that took place after. Though he was aware neither were his fault, Kouki couldn’t help but feel that if he didn’t listen to the servants, the incident never would have occurred. His head lowered, once more experiencing a wave guilt and shame wash over him.

The same digits that once rested on his cheek were then tucked under his chin, elevating it so he could stare directly into the eyes above.

Akashi then spoke one final time.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Rest well.”

With that last promise, he exited, the door closing softly behind him. Once he was sure he was alone, Kouki rushed toward it, nearly tripping over his skirts in the effort, and bolted the lock. Leaning wearily against the decorative wood, he tried to quell his rampant pulse. That was the first time Akashi had kissed him like that. All the other times, since he discovered who _Kiku_ truly was, had consisted of a soft press to his forehead or a small peck to his lips.

But that….

Squeaking at a memory that had played out only moments ago, Furihata made haste toward the washroom. He fiddled with the taps, assuring the water was as frigid as possible before dousing his face with it. Never mind that he was ruining his makeup in the process, or soaking the false mane. All that mattered was that he found some way to cool his temperature, even if it meant sitting in a bath filled with ice for hours. 

He was completely overwhelmed.

Once he had changed out of the dress, Kouki entered his sleeping quarters and gazed down at the silken sheets as if they were a plague. Despite how comfortable they were each night he had slept in them, there was no way they would be the same tonight. And yet he climbed in, pulling the curtains around him to where they were only open a sliver. He sighed heavily, rolling around in the massive bed as if searching for a decent spot to curl up.

Who was he kidding? No cold water or trying to distract himself was going to ease his heartbeat. Every time he moved, he could still feel the royal’s touch, could still feel the heat he’d generated between them, and all he had done was kiss him!

As much as he enjoyed it, he was now cursing Seijuro for his actions. Kouki laughed bitterly at the impending ruler’s parting words for the night.

_Rest well_? How was he supposed to do that?!

Wriggling once more in search of comfort, the masqueraded boy groaned loudly. This battle was a tough one, and right now, he wasn’t even close to winning it. He entertained venturing out from his room, searching for Reo, and asking him to escort him to the library. Akashi had instructed him to never leave the palace again, and never wander around it unless accompanied by the head chamberlain, or of course, him.

Kouki frowned when the pleasant tingling once more crawled up and down his body. Despite how he knew the prince needed his rest for tomorrow, he was silently hoping he was experiencing the same torture he was.

Otherwise, life was truly unfair.

He moved slightly, his nose pressed into the succor of his pillows. A familiar scent pinched his senses, and Kouki wanted to bang his head when he realized who it belonged to.

Yes. _Extremely_ unfair.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M rating for this one.

Horror-struck by the image before him, Reo didn’t know if he wanted to cry or scream. Within hours, Seijuro would be crowned emperor, would rightfully take his father’s place, and would rule for the next generation. Under the scrutiny of the entire kingdom, he needed to appear as alert, proper and elegant as possible. But when Reo had stepped into the prince’s quarters to rouse him for the festivities, that was the opposite of what he encountered.

In fact, it went beyond the other end of the spectrum. It was a certifiable disaster.

“Sei-chan! What have you done?!”

The prince was splayed out on the plush sofa, head tilted to the side and blankly gazing ahead. From what Reo could tell, Seijuro had been in the same position throughout the night, never once moving, nor gaining any bit of a proper rest. His traditional robes were wrinkled, his crimson locks disheveled, and his aura mirrored that of a man completely depleted. Panic surged through him at the thought of the soon-to-be ruler keeling over on the most important day of his life.

“You didn’t get any sleep at all, did you?!”

Akashi’s strained eyes narrowed. “What was your first clue?” he muttered dryly.

The chamberlain huffed in frustration. If he desired to be released from his duties, he couldn’t present Seijuro to the council in this frail condition. It was concerning enough that they were well aware he was reluctant about the crowning, but if they saw him in this shape, Reo knew they would never cease talking about this. Which was precisely why he would set another plan into motion, wayward princes be damned.

It was in that moment that Mibuchi mentally patted himself on the back for his foresight. Checking on the royal earlier than expected had been a grand idea after all, because now he had the time to do some damage control.

“You still have a few hours before you’ll meet with the council.” He placed the cup of tea he had been carrying on the table beside him. “Please, get some rest until then. I’m begging you.”

Angling his gaze toward the offered cup, Seijuro lifted it to his lips, ignoring the protesting to the side of him. Unfazed by the liquid nearly scalding his throat, he placed the china back on the surface, leaning back against the many throw pillows and reverting his attention to his head servant.

“Where is Kouki?” he rasped, “Why isn’t he with you?”

Reo raised an eyebrow. “He’s still asleep, Sei-chan. Like you should be. Are you that worried about the ceremony? I told you it—”

“I couldn’t give a shit about the ceremony,” he interjected, well aware of the wide-eyed stare the man shot him for his obscenity. “I’m more concerned about Kouki. I should have stayed with him last night.”

Freeing himself from the shock, Reo shook his head. After he had watched Akashi depart from Kouki’s chambers last night, he had witnessed the masqueraded one's erratic behavior. Furihata had seemed to go from flustered to panicking in the space of a second before he rushed to bolt the lock in his door. Reo could only assume some sort of act had commenced, but he wasn’t exactly sure what since his superior had been extremely mysterious about it.

“I’m sure he’s fine. He didn’t come out of his room at all last night, at least not when I was surveying the hallways. I was about to go check on him now once I left you.”

Akashi frowned. Never once left his room? Their _embrace_ couldn’t have been the cause of it, could it? Despite how much he may have relished it, he now wondered if it had startled him. The thought only brought forth an overwhelming sense of dread, and a hollowed pit in his heart soon began to form. More than anything, he wanted to rush to Kouki’s side and not only assure himself he was okay, but to put the yearning in his heart to rest. Although it had been only mere hours since he departed from his side, it was beginning to feel like eternity.

“Then do me a favor.” He discarded his worries briefly, hoping his voice was steady as possible. “Bring that to him. I wish for him to wear it during the ceremony. He can object, of course, but I would prefer if you offered it to him.”

Reo graced him with a dubious stare.

“If I do this, do you promise to go to sleep for a bit? I don’t want to return and find you still awake, Sei-chan. If you’re not going to for the ceremony, then at least do it for Kou-chan.”

At the nickname for Kouki, Seijuro once more graced his head chamberlain with a puzzled expression.

“He’ll worry if you look like this,” was the simple reply.

Mibuchi could only hope this would be enough to convince the prince to obtain some vital slumber. He watched as his words flashed through the exhausted mismatched eyes, praying to the gods that it would be what he needed to quell Akashi’s stubbornness.

“Very well.” Reo tried not to breathe a sigh of relief at that response. “You always know the way to sway me. Don’t you, Reo?”

He laughed, eyes twinkling fondly. “Always. I’ll take that to him when he awakens. As for now, you rest. You’ll need every bit of strength to endure this. Heaven knows I will.”

Akashi hummed in approval, choosing to remain on the sofa. With how exhausted he was, the last matter he wanted was trekking to the other side of the suite just to settle himself in bed. What was the point when he was to be roused only a few hours from now? Reo insisted on him being rested, but he never mentioned how or where. He exhaled loudly, sliding down against the many pillows, and allowed his eyes to close.

Smiling faintly, Reo reached for the remaining candle burning on the wall and snuffed it before turning his attention to the now still royal. He tiptoed to where Akashi had left the ensemble, trying not to giggle at the elegant material. Kouki was sure to put up a fuss for this, but he knew he would cave soon after.

“Good night, Sei-chan,” he whispered sweetly, “I’ll return in a few hours. Hopefully by then, you’ll have gained some decent rest.”

* * *

Inching his eyes open, Kouki flinched at the stinging ache that immediately greeted him. He balled his fists, rubbing furiously to free his bleary version, but it only seemed to make it feel more inflamed. For a brief moment, he misplaced the reason why he had been roused, eyes once more slipping closed until another light knock echoed through his chambers.

Oh, so that had been the cause.

It was then he noticed the absence of his wig. Scrambling from bed and smacking into one of the chairs, Kouki yelped, hopping toward where the mass of tresses lay on the vanity. The last matter he needed was one of the servants barging in unannounced and discovering him without a shred of makeup or the hair on top of his head.

“Kou-chan?” Reo called out, “It’s only me.”

At the familiar voice of the chamberlain, Kouki gusted out a relieved sigh. If it were Reo outside, then he’d come alone. He would be spared from the servants, yes, but then… where was Akashi?

“Err, you can come in!” His pitch was too high, and Kouki was certain Mibuchi would know something was amiss. “It’s okay to!”

“Uh, well,” Reo laughingly retorted from the other side, “The door is locked from the inside.”

Kouki flushed, realizing the reason why, and quickly rushed to unlock it. Once the task was accomplished, he pulled open the heavy door to be greeted by a dazzling smile. Reo glided into the room, fabric draped over one arm and a light breakfast toted by the other, Kouki closing the door gently behind him.

“Good morning, Kou-chan!” he chirped, only to glance at the other’s bedraggled appearance, “… Did you sleep at all?”

Kouki’s gaze descended, hoping his cheeks weren’t marking him out as a liar. “Not really. I was up all night worried that me being here is going to be a problem for today.”

Reo was absolutely certain that was only half of the truth. “A problem? Why would you think that? You being here won’t cause any disturbance in the ceremony.”

Kouki fidgeted, focusing entirely on the chamberlain’s robes. “I was thinking I could just stay in my room today. I-if I’m in here, I can’t be a burden or anything.”

“Stay in your room?” Reo chuckled, “That’ll be the last thing you’ll be doing, Kou-chan. It’s hard enough Sei-chan doesn’t want to do this, but if you’re not there, he’ll refuse to go through with it. Ah, that reminds me.”

Offering the hanger with the bag attached to it, Reo grinned lightly at the other’s confusion.

“A gift from Sei-chan. He said you can object if you wish, but I’m hoping you will wear it. I know you feel like it might be too much, but it’s only for today, really.”

Furihata ran his hands over the exquisite material, marveling in the beautiful flower patterns flowing from the bottom and up toward the center. The silk was fashioned with a brocade design, the blooms embossed upon the soft white and gold fabric. He could only wonder at what was in the small bag that came attached to the ensemble.

“I-I can’t accept this! This must have cost a ton!”

Reo shrugged. “Sei-chan doesn’t put a price on anything.” His bright eyes glittered vividly. “Especially when it comes to treating his beloved jewel.”

“Huh?” Kouki’s nose wrinkled cutely. “Beloved jewel? What is that? Like a treasure or something?”

The chamberlain grinned widely. “Nothing,” he singsonged, “Forget I ever said that. So, will you wear it, Kou-chan? It would make his highness very happy.”

He could only envision the pout on Seijuro’s face. “I-I guess so,” Kouki sighed, defeated, “There’s no zippers or any buttons that I need help with, are there?”

“Nope! It all ties up front, so you shouldn’t have any difficulties.”

Kouki nodded and then placed the robes down carefully. This ceremony was all about Akashi, so why was he being treated as though he played a huge role in it as well? How was it going to appear to everyone that the prince’s guest was being treated as though she belonged within this palace, when she was only a simple visitor for a little over a week now? There was no way he could hide that the threads were his gift. Akashi’s taste may have been similar to Kuroko’s in some respects, but the lavish details of the garment spoke for themselves.

“I’ll be right back, Kou-chan,” Reo then spoke, detaining his musings. “Eat a little bit, dress, and then I’ll take care of everything else.”

And then he was gone in his usual swish of robes, leaving Kouki alone in the quiet suite. Staring down at the china platter, he reached for a slice of toast, nibbling on the buttered bread. Given what had occurred last night, Kouki barely had an appetite. The butterflies in his stomach continued to flutter their wings, batting away what little hunger he had. Placing the slice down, he sighed, his focus shifting to the expensive threads on the hanger beside him.

The clothes he owned were ritzy enough, but these definitely put them to shame. Upon closer examination, Kouki was almost certain the gold trimming was spun from actual gold. His forehead wrinkled, brows creasing. This was ridiculous. What great lengths had Akashi gone through for him now? In this ensemble, he would easily stand out in the crowd, probably competing with the usual robes the soon-to-be emperor wore. At the troubling thought, he was now reconsidering his answer to Reo, but then Akashi would….

Kouki sighed heavily. It was for one day, right? One day only.

While the masqueraded boy was busy squabbling with himself, Reo had made his way back toward his former whereabouts. Although it had only been a few hours since his departure, it was now time to rouse the prince for his hectic day.

He could only hope Akashi had obtained the necessary rest.

Easing open the doors, he stepped into the dimly lit quarters, surprise filtering though his eyes at the candles that were once more illuminated. Reo frowned, his gaze shifting to the now vacant sofa before he peered around the massive room.

Akashi was nowhere in sight.

“Sei-chan?” he called out, “Where have you gone to?”

He then noticed the washroom door was closed, slight rustling from behind the crafted wood. Sauntering toward it, Reo lightly tapped on the door, hoping he wasn’t being too much of an intrusion.

“Enter.”

Granted permission, Mibuchi ventured into the spacious domain, his bright eyes wandering until he spotted him in the massive tub. Akashi’s head was propped up against the pillow behind him, sealed gaze angled up at the ceiling and body submerged in the scented water. He raised a hand, gesturing for the chamberlain to approach, and awaited his arrival.

Reo knelt on one of the sides, hand resting on the edge before recoiling at the frigid sensation.

“Sei-chan, this water is freezing! How long have you been in here?”

The soon-to-be emperor only remained in his static position. “I purposely made it that way. Did you think if I sat in a warm bath I would be able to rouse myself and function properly?”

“But you could catch a cold this way!”

“That is the least of my worries right now, Reo.”

Akashi’s eyes then slid open, head elevating to peer at the chamberlain with an expectant gaze.

He didn’t need to question what his superior was seeking. “I just left him,” Reo spoke, “He’s awake, and he made a fuss about the outfit, but said he’d wear it.”

Seijuro blinked once or twice before chuckling lowly, tipping his head back.

“I’m not surprised by that response. You will help him get ready.” The silence only made him turn his head to see the chamberlain staring at him in puzzlement. “I need no assistance. Go and assist Kouki.”

Reo bowed. “As you command.”

He giggled at the eye roll he received in return, and then departed from the washroom.

Off down the hall, the masqueraded boy was struggling to apply his usual makeup. He cussed when a glob of black dripped down his cheek, Kouki screeching in the process when it nearly landed on the silken attire he was now encased in.

“Kou-chan!” a familiar voice was then heard, “What happened? Why did you yell?”

He was still whisking at the fabric when Reo reached the vanity. “I almost got it on here. That would have been terrible to ruin something so pretty… Akashi-san would...”

“Send for another one.” Reo laughed gingerly. “I told you I would help you, so why are you rushing to get ready?”

Furihata sighed. “One of the servants barged in moments after you left, and well….”

The chamberlain scowled. “Of course. Should have seen that coming,” he muttered, “I am dreadfully sorry to have caused you any worry, Kou-chan. That must have been terrible to have to rush into your disguise.”

Settling him in the chair once more, Reo cleared the botched makeup to reapply it. He started with lightly powdering the pale cheeks and around the forehead before applying the usual inkiness to his hazel eyes, dabbing a shimmer white powder to his lids. Once satisfied, he reached for the lipstick Kouki was so fond of, and moved his own lips to illustrate how the other needed to spread his.

Kouki flushed, puckering out his lips and allowing the smooth pigment to paint them. Having someone do his makeup was odd, as he had become accustomed to applying it himself. But just as he always was in all the tasks he performed, Reo was gentle, and if Kouki had to say so himself, extremely skilled at it.

Stepping away, the chamberlain placed the cosmetics down to stand behind him. His fingers toyed with the fake tresses, running through the silkiness of them and humming as he moved the curly strands in multiple directions.

“What do you say to putting it half up, Kou-chan? The wig is already thick enough, so I think if we clip it a bit, it should work out. Where’s the bag that was attached to the outfit?”

Ah, the bag. He had been so enticed by the clothes, that he had completely forgotten about the bag. Reaching to the side of him, Kouki lifted the small pouch and handed it to the man behind him.

It was only a second later that it was dumped on the surface before him. Kouki’s eyes widened, gazing at the many jeweled accessories and admiring the designs and gems that decorated them.

“If you want my opinion,” Mibuchi spoke, “I’d go with this one.”

His fingertip snagged the petal of a small jeweled rose clip and dragged it toward them. Holding the clip up against Kouki's cheek, Reo smiled at the other's puzzled reflection.

“I think the white with the little gold outline works well with this since that’s what the outfit consists of. Do you agree, Kou-chan?”

Kouki nodded, reaching for one to align on the right side of his head as the head servant fiddled with the long tresses. Snapping it into place, he applied the other one, smiling faintly at the gleam the many tiny gems produced when the sun reflected off them. Behind him, Reo finished styling the false mane, securing the loose pieces with a large pearl clip.

Once complete, Reo combed his slender digits through the waves, assuring no knots were trapped beneath. He beamed at the image before him, placing his hands on Kouki’s shoulders and leaned over one.

“You look exquisite, Kou-chan. I will have to protect you from the many prying eyes out there, or surely his highness will have a fit.”

Kouki blushed, taking the outstretched hand that was being offered to him, and stood from the cushioned chair. Carefully not to trip over the long fabric, he glided toward the exit with Mibuchi, his curiosity about the royal’s whereabouts once more surfacing.

“Did Akashi-san sleep?” he asked when they entered the hallway, “He needed a lot for today.”

Reo heaved a sigh. “I wish I could say so, but no.” He then laughed halfheartedly. “I was thinking I would need to borrow some of Kou-chan’s makeup to hide the bags under his eyes.”

They ventured down the long hallway, Kouki concerned by the thought of how exhausted Akashi must have been. For a moment, he wondered if his lack of sleep was due to the same reason as his. That they....

His embarrassing musings were curbed when they caught sight of a small group a few paces away. Lifting his gaze, he noticed Seijuro wasn’t garbed in his usual colors, but in black and crimson instead. Frankly speaking, it made Kouki a bit uncomfortable, as he was used to seeing the vivid gold on the soon-to-be ruler.

The instant they were spotted, Akashi excused himself from the council, trekking toward the two with a faster pace than his usual. His mismatched eyes glittered, focusing on the enticing and radiant image in front of him. Becoming aware of where they stood, he shifted his gaze toward the chamberlain, gesturing his head to the crowd behind him.

Reo nodded, releasing his grip on the masqueraded boy, and sauntered toward the awaiting council.

“Gentlemen, if you please. Let us journey to the main room and prepare for the festivities.”

Now that they were united in the vacant hallway, Kouki felt his cheeks burning once more. Memories of their fleeting, yet extremely close contact from the past night came to mind, and he couldn’t help but to divert his gaze. Across from him, Akashi continued to survey him thoughtfully, his mismatched irises focused on the disguised face before him.

“This suits you marvelously.” His gaze roamed the silk that hugged every curve of Kouki's form. “You have no idea how pleased I am that you decided to wear it.”

His usual rich tone was low, the weariness entwined in it clearly ringing out. Kouki frowned and chanced a glance upward to survey the damage for himself, concern only enhancing by what he uncovered. The chamberlain hadn’t been exaggerating after all. There before him, stood a man that was severely sleep deprived, and he could only wonder if Seijuro would be able to pull through the hours yet to come.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he mumbled, “This outfit is really expensive!”

Akashi’s eyes drooped closed, a small smile gracing his lips as he shook his head, view unveiling a second after.

“There is no price for a sacred jewel, Kouki. There never was, and never will be. Their beauty is impossible to place a worth on.”

Furihata cocked his head to the side. This was the second time today he had heard something about a jewel. Why did it keep coming up each time he mentioned the expense of something?

“A jewel? What does that have to do with this?”

The amorous look he received only caused his heart to flutter. Akashi stepped another space forward, his hand rising to sweep at a loose chestnut strand. Inching a step back, Kouki swallowed hard, wondering why such a simple question had provoked this kind of reaction.

“Because that is what you are.” Seijuro’s thumb skidded down his cheek. “It’s sometimes amazing to believe that such rare beauty can exist, but here it is, right in front of me.”

Kouki was certain he now resembled a sputtering fish out of water. If they didn’t cease this conversation soon, or instantly, it would be impossible for him to go through with attending the ceremony. Not when his insides were this tangled. He had to vanish from Seijuro’s probing gaze, and quick, or else the situation would only progress to the point of no return.

“You should go… for that… that thing!” He scowled at the amused expression on the prince’s face. “Um… what I mean is… good luck.”

Apparently, trying to evade Akashi was pointless, for when the royal strode another pace toward him, Kouki knew he was trapped.

“If you really wish to grant me luck….” His lips twisted into a sly grin, leaning forward so he was gazing down at the wide-eyed boy. “You’ll kiss me.”

Kouki’s face scrunched, his heart pounding rampantly in his chest. His fists clenched at his sides, overstimulated mind sending him back to the liplock they had been consumed by just last night. He peered upward, wanting nothing more than to wipe that annoying grin off the prince’s face, but opted to remain inert.

“Or,” Seijuro’s voice pierced through his plight, “You’ll let me kiss you.”

His eyes squeezed shut, lips quibbling under Akashi’s looming presence as it inched closer. Vaguely, the sensation of soft fingertips brushed his skin, sliding down his cheek until they were gently cupping his jaw. Akashi moved slowly, laying a feather light kiss on his lips before advancing and allowing himself to encompass his entire mouth.

Kouki responded with slight reluctance, but by the fifth kiss, he had allowed the prince’s embrace to consume him. Losing the reality of where they stood, in the middle of the palace hallway where thousands were gathering just a few measures away, he gave in to his desire, kissing Seijuro back with fervor, and provoking the butterflies in his stomach once again.

But as it always had done, fate intervened. It manifested in the form of his head servant turning up and patiently waiting for their separation. Gracing Reo with a defeated glance, Akashi divided their embrace, but not before pressing one last kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I will see you later, Kouki,” he breathed into the other’s reddened ear, “Be well.”

Furihata was internally screaming. How was Akashi able to perform these acts without as much of a hair out of place? He had easily moved on to the ceremony without a shred of evidence, and here he was with his semblance once more disturbed. If he survived this round, he was definitely going to somehow bestow the same misery on the impish prince.

It was then he noticed the chamberlain was staring at him ruefully.

“Sei-chan has destroyed your makeup,” he sighed, disappointed, “This won’t do. This won’t do at all.”

Those words only caused his scarlet complexion to resurface. Reo already having been a witness to their closeness was humiliating enough, but before Kouki could comprehend the situation or even respond, the chamberlain was already dragging him back down the hall toward his room.

* * *

Nighttime skies had always been one of his favorite sights to admire. The twinkling stars offered their illuminating wonderment down on him, and brought a radiant splendor to the shadowy area. Beneath him, the merriment of laughter and chatting voices continued to filter through the air, the ballroom doors having been open to let in the night’s refreshing and warm breeze.

It was a wonderful night for such a huge celebration.

The coronation, surprisingly, had advanced without incident. Despite how reluctant Akashi had been about the whole ordeal, he had followed through according to plan, and within hours, had been crowned the new emperor. Kouki was amazed at how focused he had been, attention never wandering, and absorbing each word the officials had proclaimed. Not once did he falter, not a single flaw had he made.

Immediately after, a ball had been held to conclude the ceremony. With how apathetic he had acted toward everything, Kouki was certain it wasn’t Akashi who had constructed the gala. Throughout the day and into the evening, the newly crowned emperor had been completely swamped. Many wanting to congratulate him, while others were eager to learn who their new ruler was as a person. And to be entirely honest with himself, it made Kouki a tad envious, as Akashi hadn’t so much as glanced at him since their parting in the hallway.

The masqueraded boy wanted to laugh at his childish thoughts. Here Seijuro had just been crowned emperor, and he was more concerned about the lack of attention he was giving him. How selfish he was being.

No matter how merry the atmosphere was, it was around the third hour into the ball that Kouki had grown weary. Reo had been by his side the entire time, aside from when he needed to perform his official duties, easily protecting him from the masses of people and granting him a sense of security. He had then tapped the chamberlain on his side, as the man was too tall for him to reach any higher, and asked to be excused, explaining he was completely exhausted.

Alone, as he traversed one of the many palace hallways, Furihata had debated on where he wished to rest. If he went to his own quarters, the servants would surely pester him to join the festivities, but if he were to go elsewhere, they wouldn’t have the need to. The question was, where to?

It was then he noticed where he had ventured. Akashi wouldn’t mind, right? As he had been through these doors numerous times by now. Kouki gusted a sigh, repressed the skepticism in his heart, and eased open the doors to the emperor’s domain.

The room was fairly dark, aside from the one lantern on the wall that had remained lit. Stepping in from the entrance, Kouki glanced around his surroundings, mind whirling as he debated on where to go from here. It wasn’t that he was physically worn down, but being around so many people, questioning who he was within the kingdom and where he dwelt, was exhausting in its own sense.

A sudden movement caused him to freeze in his tracks, and it took him a second to realize it was the curtains of the balcony doors. Wandering toward them, Kouki pushed them the rest of the way open and stepped out into the warm night.

And thus, here he had been for at least an hour now.

The stars tonight were exceptionally bright, the brightest Kouki had seen them in a long time. Peering up at the glittering celestial blanket, he focused on a rather unusual star, one that wasn’t aligned with the others, and he could only wonder.

“I hope you’re proud, Mom,” he whispered, twirling a chestnut strand nervously around his ring finger. “I know I haven’t made the best choices, but I hope you aren’t disappointed in me.”

It was the sudden series of light footsteps behind him that curtailed his revelation. Kouki froze, hesitantly turning around to see the curtains give way, revealing the newcomer.

“There you are.” Akashi’s condition was ruffled, as though he had been running. “You have no idea how long I’ve been searching for you.”

Guilt consumed him at how frantic yet relieved the emperor’s tone was. Kouki lowered his head, his eyes focusing on the draping fabric between the two of them rather than Akashi’s face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I had to leave. Too many people were there, and….”

Akashi immediately frowned, realization drawing on him. “I apologize for that. I should have been well aware that you didn’t wish to be around so many strangers. Forgive me for that, Kouki.”

Waving it aside, Kouki returned to gazing over the balcony. Beneath them, the many voices still continued to flutter through the night. From what he had been able to tell, there were still tons of people, hundreds if he had to guess. He gripped the edge, hands curling around the soft granite.

“Why aren’t you down there?” he asked, “You should be.”

Seijuro remained where he stood, his expression morphing into slight annoyance.

“I’ve done all I needed to do. This, and for the rest of the night, is my private time. No one would dare disturb me right now.”

He then took a step forward, giving Kouki a perfect side view of the symbol earring that now pierced his ear.

“And that time is reserved for you.”

Kouki's cheeks ignited, denying any opportunity to fully turn around. Just the night before, they had been in the same situation, but that had been interrupted by the prepping for the ceremony. Now there was nothing standing in the way, and he could only wonder if….

“However,” Akashi’s tone nearly caused him to jump. “There is one matter that didn’t take place during the after party. One that I would like to fulfill now. That is, if you don’t mind.”

Before he could ask what it was, Kouki yelped as he was pulled forward into the royal’s arms. Peering up at Seijuro questioningly, he awaited the response, but was only answered by one of the other’s arms wrapping around his waist while the other had seized his spare hand.

“During that time, I was forced to dance with people I had no interest in, and not with the one I _truly_ wished to dance with.” He offered Kouki one of his tender smiles, somehow causing his heart to thump even harder. “Will you dance with me, Kouki?”

Hesitantly appraising the one awaiting his answer, Furihata laughed gingerly. As embarrassing as it was to admit, he had only danced a few times. With Kuroko. Whether it had been around the manor, or when they had been invited to another event held by one of the many people the duke dealt with. And yet he slowly nodded his head, leaning into Akashi’s lead and vaguely listening to the melody below.

They swayed in silence, drowning out the voices that continued to clamor beneath them. Kouki chose to rest his head on the royal’s shoulder, eyes sliding closed as he relished in the tranquil moment and the thrill of having Akashi without any interruptions.

No words had passed between them for quite some time now, so it was a bit of a surprise when Akashi decided to break the silence.

“Kouki.”

He hummed in response, refusing to leave his warm position against the emperor's torso.

“Do you remember when you asked what it was like to be a princess?”

Kouki’s eyes shot open. He had been ten when he laid on the once prince’s lap, listening to a book that Akashi claimed was only a fairy tale. The many sparkling jewels had caught his childish interest, and he could only wonder what it was like then to have something like that. The fact Akashi remembered so far back only caused his eyes to water.

“Yes,” he practically whispered, the emotion snagged in his voice.

It was a few moments before their conversation rekindled, Akashi continuing to slowly rock them back and forth.

“Would you allow me to show you that?”

Kouki raised his head, directly staring into the mismatched eyes above. “You’ve already done so,” he mumbled, “I mean… everything you’ve done for me so far, the outfit, and all of this.”

The emperor seemed surprised by his answer, a thin brow elevating behind his crimson bangs.

“Is that what you think it’s all about?” He laughed faintly, as though he was concealing something. “There is much, much more to behold.”

They were then divided, Kouki puzzled when Seijuro placed him gently aside to stare at the view below.

“I haven’t a clue where your heart lies,” Akashi spoke softly, “Whether it’s with me or not…” He shifted, greeting the masqueraded form with somber eyes. “but what I’m asking is, if you would allow me to honor you. Even if it’s only for tonight.”

His bewilderment only magnified. “Honor me?”

Akashi blinked, staring at him as though in disbelief. His serious expression melted, substituted for one of amusement as he once more began to laugh softly.

“You have no idea what I’m asking you, Kouki, do you.”

Shaking his head, Kouki tried not to reveal how foolish he felt. He wanted to assume Seijuro was requesting what he was yearning for, but what if he wasn’t? Then he would be the one looking ridiculous, and Akashi would find another way to laugh at him.

But then, as though he had seen through his frantic musings, he granted him the response he had been hoping for.

“I wish to continue from last night, before I regrettably had to leave you. We have no interruptions tonight. There is nothing standing in our way.”

The words that flowed through his ears were wonderful, the ones he had been desiring to hear after their separation. And yet, he couldn’t find himself to react properly, the words sliding from his lips ones he never wished to express.

“You don’t want to with me,” he whispered, “I’m tainted.”

Akashi seemed perturbed by the warning. “You’re what? I thought I already told you that wasn’t possible with you. Something so precious cannot be tainted.”

As though to emphasize his point, he cupped his chin, tugging him forward until their mouths collided. Kouki mumbled in protest, his hands reaching up to shove off against the other’s chest, but found himself slowly surrendering. It was a moment after that he began to move his own lips with Seijuro’s, relishing once more being consumed by the warmth only he gave off.

When he had begun to grow hazy from their embrace, they were abruptly broken apart. Kouki pouted, wondering if he had done anything to cause such a reaction, but that misunderstanding was quashed by his many skirts being lifted off the ground. His arms circled the emperor’s neck for stability, nails digging into the fabric on his shoulders as they crossed through the balcony curtains.

He was then placed down on the silken canvas, Akashi edging back momentarily to remove the heavy crown from the top of his head. Kouki swallowed thickly, the butterflies once more frantically flapping their wings, and his heart pounding cruelly in his throat. This was a moment he had waited for, but his past experiences with anything intimate had been terrifying. Any other coupling he had done, hadn’t been near as gentle as Akashi was being, and he could only panic he wasn’t going to be able to go through with everything.

Soon after, Akashi returned, hovering over him before reconnecting their mouths. Though Kouki responded with a tinge of reluctance, his heart won the battle and pushed him to relinquish his fear. His hands reached up, once more latching round the royal’s neck as he felt himself sinking deeper into the many pillows behind him.

Removing himself with a click, Seijuro laid a feathery kiss along his jaw, his lips descending until they were brushing against his thundering pulse. He kissed at the tender skin, pulling away briefly to breathe into the trembling one's ear.

“Relax, Kouki.”

His journey resumed, kissing the confines of Kouki’s neck then pausing a second time. Panic surged through his veins when Akashi rose, taking him with him in the process. In his hands was a fistful of the pretense he wore day in and day out, and Kouki could only assume what he was about to request.

“It’s only me, Kouki,” he tenderly spoke, “No one is going to see you without this.”

A bit reluctant to be without his disguise, Furihata painstakingly allowed the emperor to remove the piece from him. Feeling completely vulnerable, he whimpered, sinking back into the pillows in hope their warmth would secure him once more. But Akashi had another motive in mind.

Propping Kouki against the cushions, he once more graced him with his heat, his lips coasting down his neck until they reached where the fabric began. He then ascended, uniting their mouths as his hands began to travel down the gown that molded so well into Kouki's form. Slowly his fingers toyed with the golden sash, deftly untying it, but not pulling the fabric apart as of yet.

When the silk began to recede from his skin, Kouki instantly scrambled to stop it from doing so. His mouth quibbled, head turning to the side while a rosy hue encased his nose and cheeks. Akashi paused above him, fingers clasping his own as he gently placed them off to the side.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed over, Kouki.” He leaned forward to drop a kiss on his pinkened nose as though to pacify him. “I have waited a rather long time for this, and have no intention on stopping unless you say so.”

Kouki’s forehead scrunched. “A week is long?”

“A week?” Akashi couldn’t help but laugh. “No, my dear Kouki, try years.”

Summarily defeated, Furihata allowed the emperor to part the fabric, gifting him the view he had so desperately tried to guard. From the corner of his eye, he could see Akashi gazing down at him, as though he was taking in the sight before him or studying him. Either way, it made him feel extremely uncomfortable, being this exposed.

Especially when he knew his body was anything but flawless.

But when Akashi propped himself up once more, it was to carefully grip at his shoulders and turn him so that they were staring into each other’s eyes.

“You’re beautiful, Kouki. Just as I knew you were.”

Humiliation dissipating, Kouki's concern was swapped for a gasp. The sensation of lips kissing along his torso, until they paused to linger on one of his hardened buds, was exhilarating. Akashi’s tongue then poked forward, lightly grazing against the hardened point with the tip of his tongue. His fingers wandered to the neglected one, gently pinching the small bud in between his fingers as his tongue continued to lap at the other.

Kouki whimpered, wriggling to cease some of the stimulation he was receiving, but the action was futile. Through cloudy eyes, he watched as Seijuro once more descended, laving his tongue along his stomach and swirling it around his navel. All the while his hands occupied the edges of the fabric, easing it down lower until Kouki was laid bare.

“Perfect,” he muttered, “There is no other word for you, Kouki.”

One passing thought piloted through his mind as Akashi dipped below his navel. For a good portion of his life, he had always considered himself worthless, that no one would ever spare him a second glance, but at this precise moment, he felt exactly like what Akashi had referred to him as.

A precious jewel.

* * *

 

It was a faint crackling noise that urged his eyes to peel open. Elevating his head, Kouki peered blearily around, his gaze landing on the dwindling fire. That was peculiar. He didn’t recall the fireplace being in that specific location. His attention then swirled around to another unfamiliar piece of furniture. He didn’t recall that within his room either.

A slight murmur then echoed from below him, causing him to gape. Repressing his fear, Kouki glanced down to see the dozing emperor resting amongst the sheets, and he was the one perched on top of him.

Oh, gods. When had he fallen asleep? This wasn’t supposed to happen! He definitely couldn’t stay here. He had to rush back to his room before anyone took notice he was missing.

The question was _how_.

To do so, he would have to somehow pry Akashi’s arm away from him and wiggle out of his embrace without awakening him. Given the position they were in, Kouki knew he had to first turn around so it was easier to free the weight on his back. The only complication with that was, there was a greater chance he would rouse the emperor from his slumber before he even made it that far. Still, he knew he had to act, and fast before the servants noticed he was absent from his room.

His devotion seemed to have other notions in mind, his head choosing to remain where his ear was pressed against the other’s heartbeat. The rhythm of it was soothing, and it was becoming nearly impossible to remove himself.

Considering his options, he decided on slowly turning on his side. If he were to move, the hand resting on him would as well. At least, that was his hope. Raising the covers, Kouki adjusted, slowly enough to where he wasn’t making waves, but enough to where he was hopefully accomplishing his goal.

“Mmm.”

Freezing in place at the abrupt sound, Furihata’s wide eyes shakily checked behind him. But to his relief, the emperor was inert. Whisking a sigh, he resumed wriggling free, his gaze focused on the placid face below him. Periodically, Akashi shifted, restlessly searching for a more agreeable sleeping pose. Even with all the movement though, he remained asleep.

Once he’d been relinquished from the royal’s grip, Kouki rolled the rest of the journey, cringing when his rump collided with the ground. He peered up at the lofty bed, assuring himself Akashi hadn’t been disturbed, and then crawled toward the double doors that were his salvation.

He was about to perform his dramatic escape when something snatched his attention. Kouki’s cheeks flushed, quickly fastening the sash around his waist to better conceal his exposed figure. Relieved that he was now covered, he took one last glance at the dozing form before unbolting the lock and fleeing into the hallway.

Preoccupied with his hasty retreat, he failed to notice the path he was treading wasn’t vacant. Kouki and another resident of the palace then exchanged greetings in a brief collision, sending him tumbling backwards. Mumbling a quick apology, he dusted himself off when he realized the other hadn’t fallen as he had done, and continued his trek.

Reo blinked, a puzzled stance crossing his features as the masqueraded form fled down the hallway.

“Won’t be long now,” he sighed, “Three… two… one….”

His countdown finished, and like he’d predicted, the emperor came barreling from his room. By his perturbed demeanor, Reo knew exactly who he was frantically searching for. So instead of waiting for Akashi to interrogate him, he simply gestured his head in the direction Furihata had fled to.

Kouki made it safely through his door when a horrifying thought ensnared him. His hands scouted the top of his head, discovering the wig absent. Damn it! It was in Akashi’s quarters. That meant he had to somehow sneak back there, hope the royal was still asleep, grab his wig, and then somehow make it back to his rooms unscathed.

With a conquered sigh, he pulled open the door, ready for another hasty run, when he was blocked by a rather familiar figure. He yelped, nearly slamming the portal closed, but his action was prevented by the presence refusing to budge.

Akashi stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a hideous frown tarnishing his attractive features. If Kouki were to guess, he appeared annoyed, maybe even upset, and he could only assume it was because they were no longer entwined together.

“Why did you leave?”

Furihata bowed his head, wallowing in shame. The emperor’s tone was low, the rejection resounding from it as clear as a bell. Realization instantly struck Kouki. Akashi didn’t think he’d drove Kouki to leave, did he?

“I-I didn’t want anyone to walk in on us. I’m supposed to be in this room, not yours. It would have looked weird!”

His answer seemed to put Akashi at ease. “That’s your reason? To think I was worried I had upset you in some way.”

Contemplating a response, Kouki barely had a moment to counter before he was lifted from the ground. His eyes magnified, his arms circling the royal’s neck as they forged the path back to the other’s quarters.

“A-Akashi-san! What are you—”

“I assure you,” Seijuro emphasized, “There is no need for concern. No one would dare to disturb me, and if they must, Reo is there to take care of it.”

Kouki cringed. “I think I crashed into him before. I should go and see if he’s okay and apologize.”

“He’s fine. I passed him along the way when searching for you.”

Entering the emperor’s chambers, Kouki noticed numerous candles were now lit in place of the dwindling fireplace. But before he could decipher the situation, he was gently placed back on the massive bed. Moments after that, Akashi joined him, choosing to balance on his side to obtain direct eye contact with him.

“That’s the second time within two days that I’ve lived the fear that you were absent from my side. Do you enjoy toying with my heart, Kouki?”

Kouki scowled. “I already told you why I left! And you said that—”

“I know,” he chuckled, “I’m only teasing you.”

Seijuro’s amusement shifted into concern. Gingerly he placed his fingers on Kouki's side, descending until he reached the other’s hip. Kouki shivered, curling up against Akashi to revel in his warmth, his hand rising to clutch at the black and crimson fabric. How he missed the usual material that adorned the former prince, and hoped it was only worn for the coronation.

“Do you feel okay?” Akashi asked, “Are you experiencing any pain?”

Kouki was glad to know his face was hidden, as he was sure it currently resembled a tomato.

“N-no,” he mumbled into the other’s chest, “No pain.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

His gentle words drew Kouki to tilt his gaze upward, staring awestruck into the luminous dichromatic eyes. Lips ghosted against his forehead as Seijuro’s hands slid upward to glide over the curves of his shoulders.

With the loss of contact lower down, Kouki registered more. And with a jolt, he could sense that the sash around his waist had loosened a second time, the tentative connection leaving him in a risky position. He hastened to refasten it, but his hands were halted by the same pair touching him so fondly.

“There’s no need for that,” the emperor nearly teased, a soft laugh trailing his words.

Within the next moment, Kouki felt Seijuro’s mouth collide with his own, and he knew from the onset that it would take more than a simple embrace to quell the fervor he was being lavished with then.

In an instant, they were joined, Kouki’s limbs wrapping snugly around Akashi’s propelling form. Tilting his head back amongst the numerous pillows, he groaned softly when lips burrowed into the confines of his neck, peppering it with light kisses before retreating to connect to the mouth beneath. Kouki’s lips easily parted, welcoming Seijuro’s deft tongue and allowing it to mingle with his own. The hands resting on his waist only brought him closer, the sudden rearrangement causing a small whimper when Akashi surged even deeper than before.

But then to his surprise, Seijuro ceased their union, rising slightly so he was staring down into his eyes.

“Kouki.”

His name rolled off his tongue like a prayer, Akashi’s silken tone only bestowing another shiver within him as his hips continued to rock.

“Listen to my words carefully.”

Curiously, he raised his gaze, hazel irises boring into the crimson and gold above him as Akashi's lips moved once again.

"I love you."

Shocked by the abrupt declaration, Kouki's heart thumped, eyes watering with swelling emotion. Akashi continued to drive into him, stretching until his lips brushed his ear, his loving words repeated in a gust of a whisper.

But before Kouki could utter a reply, he was swept up in another one of the emperor’s ardent kisses, allowing the heat to consume him entirely. And though he knew he couldn’t express it vocally, Kouki hoped his actions would prove a suitable alternative.

_I love you too, Akashi-san… more than you’ll ever know…._

* * *

The view of the sunrise was breathtaking. A divine portrait of gold and orange with a pink hue mixed in between, encased the deep blue sky, and illustrated that a new day had begun. Perched on the balcony, Kouki leaned over the ledge, the flowing sleeves of the ceremonial robes brushing against the chilled granite and causing him to momentarily shiver when another breeze whisked through.

If one would were to gaze upon him, it would appear as though he were immersed in a state of trinity, with not a care in the world.

But oh, how erroneous they would be.

One minute his life had been in shambles, the next it was practically altering its direction, sewing the holes of his past and granting him a whole new realm.

Living within these walls, secure from the ghouls of the village and protected by the highest of powers, Kouki couldn’t deny how at ease he was. But it wasn’t as though he hadn’t felt safe back home. Back where Kuroko was. Never had there been a time where his thoughts didn’t roll back to the duke, wondering if he was faring well in his journey. Wondering when he would return.

And when he did, Kouki knew he would be returning to the manor. It wasn’t as though he didn’t care for Kuroko. In fact, he couldn’t see himself permanently separating from him. Not after all he had attained for him. He could never return the favor, could never repay that debt.

But Akashi was….

His musings ceased by the echoing of light footsteps. Kouki turned in time to see the newly crowned emperor approaching. He smiled faintly, his expression morphing into one of wide-eyed confusion when he was swept into the other’s embrace, his back pressed against Akashi’s chest. Choosing to perch his chin on the masqueraded boy's shoulder, Kouki sighed contentedly when Seijuro planted a soft kiss on the side of his neck, his velvety digits skating against his slender waist until they were settled comfortably.

As his fingertips trailed along the silken sash, memories of their night came flooding back. Kouki’s face warmed at the images, his cheeks tinted with a rosy hue and his eyes lowering to the ground. Despite the fact that they’d coupled twice, Akashi had treated him delicately, as though he were a priceless gem, and had been attentive to any discomfort he may have experienced.

The absolute opposite of how he had been handled in the past.

Kouki's eyes fluttered when he nuzzled the planes of his neck, laying another feathery kiss on his shoulder. Seijuro’s hands then coasted skyward from his hip, Kouki biting his lip to repress his giggle when he touched upon a sensitive spot. He squeezed his hand in response, hoping it was enough to satisfy the emperor. For as much as Kouki was enjoying Akashi’s actions, he was beginning to yearn to hear his rich voice. Even if he were to embarrass him by reminiscing about last night, he wished to hear his velvety tones.

And then to his delight, that was precisely what came next.

“Kouki.”

Seijuro’s tone was soft. Affectionate, but fatigue bled through, coloring the words. While he had obtained what he pined for, it was the question that followed that Kouki was unprepared for.

“Will you allow me to take care of you from now on? You would never have any worries ever again. I’ll give you everything you desire, protect you from any harm, assure you would never leave my side. Never again would you feel alone.”

The loving declaration only accelerated the tempo of his pulse. Being in the arms of the most powerful man in the country, to be adored and treated so kindly by him, was what one would consider a happy ending.

But Kouki knew.

Knew that happy endings were reserved solely for fairy tales. And no matter how magical things might have seemed right then, he knew the harsh truth.

His life was the direct opposite of that, and the one who claimed to love him had nary a clue of the true horrors that lay dormant within his memories.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Something was… missing.

That was Kouki’s first drowsy thought, as he slowly returned to Earth from his dream-filled realm. Anxiously, his hands searched, grasping onto the thick edges of the two comforters that had been placed over him. Despite their warmth, he still felt chilled, as though an immense source of heat had vanished from his grasp. He wiggled restlessly, frowning when he realized it was impossible to shift into his previous comfortable position.

Defeated, his eyes cracked open, surveying the dim room. His hazy gaze whisked past the single lantern on the wall to catch sight of the balcony curtains blowing from the gentle morning breeze. Remembering on how only a few hours ago he stood outside to admire the sunset, Kouki smiled softly, his memory illustrating the scene perfectly as he was then joined by the emperor before resting some more hours after.

Wait a second.

Now fully awake, he switched his gaze to the side of him to uncover a vacant space. So that had been the reason for his awakening. He was no longer caged in Akashi’s embrace, thus losing a large portion of the warmth he had gathered.

Kouki frowned and slid his body into the area Seijuro once occupied, trying to capture the lingering heat with no avail. The emperor must have been absent for some time, but he had only just noticed it. And though he was aware of his current location, Kouki couldn’t soothe the hollow pit inside him. He knew he was being selfish, knew Akashi had an important- the most important- role of all to tend to, but he couldn’t help but yearn for his presence.

Concluding that sleep was futile now, he wiggled out of the satin cocoon, rolling from the bed with a thump resounding. Even though the hour was a bit later, it was still difficult for him to maneuver around the massive quarters, as every shred of light had been blocked out. Still, he managed to find the washroom, relieved when the window in there allowed the sun’s gleam to shrine through.

As Furihata prepared for the day, a familiar raven head poked his head in the room. Peering around the domain, Reo frowned when he didn’t uncover the masqueraded boy still tangled in the sheets. Angling his gaze to the door cracked open across the suite, Reo smiled and nodded to himself, quietly closing the doors behind.

Slipping back into the hallways, he trekked in the opposite direction and toward the threshold of the palace. Quite frankly, he was surprised Akashi hadn’t changed the location of Kouki’s room yet, to be closer to his own. Especially considering that he was certain the newly-crowned emperor was intimately bonded to their visitor, who had come more as a blessing than anything. At least with Kouki here, the menacing aura that the palace usually experienced was put to rest, unless one of the council members decided to barge their way in uninvited as they constantly did.

He pushed open the doors to the throne room, not even the slightest bit fazed to find Seijuro blankly gazing ahead as another of the council rambled on. The second Mibuchi stepped into the room, his mismatched eyes wandered in his direction, refusing to budge until he was standing before them.

“Excuse me.” Reo bowed to both the council member and the disinterested emperor. “Awake, your majesty,” he uttered, knowing Akashi would know of whom he was speaking of, yet no one else would.

Seijuro nodded and rose from his the plush throne, ignoring the protesting to the side of him.

“We have been discussing the same matter for three hours now,” he sighed wearily, “And with no change. I need a break. If you have any questions, Reo will answer them, but do avoid asking the same ones you’ve repeatedly asked of me.”

He dismissed any more objections and retreated to the hallways, his destination his own quarters. Once reached, he glided toward the closed washroom and knocked lightly on the door.

“Kouki?” he called out, “May I come in?”

Receiving a small reply, Akashi entered to find him still garbed in his wrinkled robes and staring down at the faucets. Kouki offered him a sheepish expression, cheeks tinted a faint rose.

“Um, I don’t know how to turn this on. Yours is different than mine.”

Akashi chuckled, kneeling beside him and began to tinker with the tabs. “It’s a bit confusing the first time, but eventually you get used to it. You need to twist it this way, then a bit in this direction.”

Nodding, Kouki watched as the massive tub filled up, his hands toying with the sash that secured his robes. Even if he and Akashi had recently coupled, he wasn’t confident on exposing himself, despite what affectionate words the man had gifted him.

“Kouki?” Seijuro asked, freeing him from his thoughts, “What’s wrong?”

He studied the flushed complexion and instantly understood. Beckoning Kouki closer, he drew him into his arms, leaning down to seal their lips together. At first, Kouki protested, surprised by the abrupt actions, but then slowly eased into the kiss, his tensed arms relaxing at their sides. That was, until Akashi’s hands rose to untie the sash.

Disconnecting their mouths, his hands traveled to Kouki's side and rubbed them in a soothing matter.

“Shh,” he coaxed, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed over, Kouki, but I understand your concern. Place one foot in the water. I’ll hold you so you don’t fall.”

A bit bewildered, Furihata followed suit, gingerly stepping into the tub before feeling the silken material being removed. Understanding the situation, he felt his nerves defusing and slowly moved with him the rest of the way in, allowing Seijuro to rid him of the ceremonial robes.

Settling into the scented water, Kouki laid his head back and allowed the oils to soothe his weary body. His pulse enlivened when hands touched upon his forehead, combing through the tousled locks in a rhythm that threatened to spirit him into slumber.

Shifting his gaze, he fought not to smile at the comical display of such a powerful man kneeling on the floor in his regal attire and assisting him in ways the servants of the palace did.

He tried not to blush when Seijuro began to run a cloth along his collarbone, gliding it through the dips of his torso and along the side of his neck. Down it slid to the middle of his waist, lingering for a moment or two to cleanse the area before it was trailing upward again. The acts were extremely gentle, soothing to where he began to gradually drift off, his head sliding from the bath’s pillow and down the porcelain surface.

It wasn’t until Akashi shouted his name that he realized he had nearly plunged into the water. The abrupt clamor caused him to jerk forward, his legs kicking to secure himself, and creating a massive splash in the process.

Kouki coughed, trying to quell his thundering pulse, but found it beating louder when he realized Akashi had been soaked in the process.

“I-I’m sorry!” he sputtered, “I didn’t—”

“Stop apologizing for everything, Kouki,” he sighed, “There isn’t anyone to blame for that.”

Mismatched eyes then flickered his way, and a further exhale followed, the expression on the royal's face mournful.

"It may be simpler if I got in with you," Seijuro finally suggested, watching closely for his reaction, "Would that be too much?"

Kouki quickly shook his head, diminishing the concern. "No, it's fine," he meekly responded.

It wasn't that he didn't trust himself to stay afloat, but more that he wanted to ease the worries present on Akashi's visage. He already had so many to carry on his shoulders that Kouki never wanted to be the cause of another. Besides, he would be lying to himself if he wasn’t thrilled about having Seijuro as close as he had the previous hours.

Eyes descending, Kouki chose to stare at the tinted water instead of what was occurring to the side of him. His cheeks leveled up another shade of red, shying away from the scene. Light footsteps resounded throughout his ears, and then the water wavered as it welcomed the newcomer. Given how wide the tub was, Kouki didn’t have to move from his settled spot, but was tugged into the other’s embrace nonetheless.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Akashi hummed, his nimble digits once more combing through the dark tresses. “Lay your head back, Kouki. You won’t fall this time. You have my word.”

Reposing against the royal’s torso, Kouki felt those skilled fingers threading through his damp mane, combing back the slick tresses as a handful of water encased him. Akashi was quick to assure none trickled into his eyes, his swift maneuvering ridding his face of any excess droplets. But before Kouki could comprehend the situation, another moist sensation was combed through his dark locks, this one possessing a wonderful fragrance. His eyes sealed when Seijuro began to massage the liquid through, carefully making sure to cleanse each and every strand.

It was the light tapping on the washroom door that caused his gaze to unveil, but it didn’t cease Akashi’s movements as another cupful was dumped on him.

“What is it, Reo?” he called out, knowing exactly who waited on the other side. “I’m assuming that simpleton hasn’t left yet.”

“No,” the chamberlain sighed, “In fact, another has shown up. I was asked for your presence. I apologize for the intrusion, Sei-chan. Same to Kou-chan.”

Rinsing the remaining suds from his hair, Akashi scowled. “No need for apologies. I knew it would come to this. I’ll be done soon, so return within ten minutes.”

Kouki frowned at the retreating footsteps. “I’m sorry if I took any time away,” he mumbled.

Then, he was quickly spun around so that he was directly facing the emperor. Akashi’s expression seemed remorseful as he leaned forward to press a light kiss to the other’s jaw.

“I told you to stop apologizing, didn’t I?” He ran the pad of his thumb down Furihata’s cheek. “If I could, I would grant you all of my time, Kouki, but sadly I can’t do that.”

Kouki nodded, choosing to perch his head on the royal’s shoulder, but the sensation of something sliding off his finger caused him to glance down. Horrified by what he uncovered, he fetched the sodden tassel from the water.

“I ruined it,” he mourned, “I forgot to take it off before taking a bath.”

Seijuro plucked the worn tassel from his hand and gazed at it strangely, dark brow rising in speculation. “This was ruined a long time ago, Kouki. Look at how the threads were already coming apart.”

“Don’t get rid of it!” He reached to snatch it back, but Seijuro’s grip was firm. “I… I want to keep it.”

“I won’t get rid of it… even though it looks terrible right now, but I’ll find a way to preserve it for you. Then you can have it back. Is that fine?”

Kouki bowed his head, still grieving over the loss, but was quickly reassured into a slight nod by another kiss being pressed to his nose.

“Good to know.”

Akashi then carefully divided their embrace, reluctantly rising from the water, and causing Kouki to blush profusely.

Turning to stare at the elegant patterns on the wall, he listened as Seijuro whisked to the other side to settle back into his regal attire. It was almost inconceivable how swift the moments had passed since the chamberlain’s departure, and how Kouki found himself wishing time would have slowed, if even for just a bit.

But when he glanced up a second later, Akashi was standing there, now fully dressed and holding out a huge, fluffy towel for him to climb into. Once he recovered from the strangeness of the gesture, he exited the bath, the emperor wrapping him up and guiding him back out into the suite.

Situated on the bed, Akashi began to rid his tresses of any water before tending to the rest of him. Kouki glanced around, realizing his robes were in the washroom and made a gesture that caused the emperor to pause in his drying method.

“Those are wrinkled and need to be washed.” He had returned to rubbing the towel gently against him. “I’ll give you something to wear for the time being until you’re back in your room.”

Kouki faltered. “S-something of yours? Isn’t that going to be—”

He was interrupted by the same tap against the doors. Akashi strode across the room to pull one of his many robes from the closet and dressed the protesting Kouki in one before granting the chamberlain entrance.

“I’m assigning you the task of watching over him today.” His eyes wandered from Reo to the flushed boy beside him. “Kouki, you’re free to go wherever you want, but if you wish to leave the grounds, Reo has to go with you. I cannot have another mishap like the other night happen to you again. Understand?”

Seijuro carefully positioned the false mane over his head, brushing the stray locks behind Furihata’s ear. Leaning forward, he maneuvered for another chaste kiss, chuckling lowly when Kouki's cheeks once more lit up before he hastily departed for the hallway.

The emperor's attention was then returned to Mibuchi, who he quickly ushered into the room.

“Actually, with Kouki or not, I do need you to go to the village, Reo. There’s something I need done within the hours, preferably as soon as possible.”

 

 

* * *

Later morning found Kouki gazing over the balcony of his suite, relishing in the warm breeze stirring his skirts. Hazel eyes darted across the panorama, briefly landing on the servants mucking about in the fields and wondering what task they were performing. His vision whirled once more to the next sight, his hands clutching at the smooth edges of the balcony and gripping tightly when his eyes caught the small backdrop of the village that was so far away.

A place that was both nostalgic and terrifying at the same time, and the other night had acutely underlined the second fact. As he recalled that point in time, he realized how far away he stood from the town, and what a distance Akashi must have had to run to rescue him from the vermin that lurked there.

It was no wonder he was thoroughly exhausted when they had returned.

Angling his gaze, he focused on the thick hedges that shielded where he once frolicked as a child. Where he’d grown up and met so many wonderful people, including the man whose care he was in now, the place where he had lost his mother.

The bitter end of his reflection caused a wetness to prick at his eyes. Racing to clear it away, Kouki unmindfully mopped at the moisture, smudging his usual makeup in the process. Glancing down at his finger, he cursed his carelessness, and was about to rush back inside when he noticed a colorful streamer soaring through the sky where the village sprawled underneath.

Another followed shortly after, enhancing his curiosity as it landed a few seconds later.

“What is that?” he muttered to no one but himself.

He pressed forward, leaning over the balcony in hopes he could gain a better view, when a knock echoed through the large room. Knowing exactly who awaited on the other side, Kouki stuck his head back through the French doors to utter permission for entrance.

Moments after, the chamberlain was greeting him with his usual smile.

“Hello, Kou-chan.” Reo’s bright eyes focused on the open balcony doors. “Are you enjoying the pleasant weather we’re having today?”

Furihata nodded, his head turning swiftly to the side when another colorful stream soared through the skies.

“Mibuchi-san. Err, what are those?”

The chamberlain peered over to where he was pointing, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Eh?” Reo stared ahead at the waves in the sky. “I’m not so sure. One of the vendors could be testing something.”

Together they watched as more cascaded from the sky, swooping down into parts of the village in the form of a dance. Mibuchi focused on the expression of the masqueraded boy’s face, realizing just how curious he was about the whole display.

“I do have to go there for an errand,” he reminded the younger, “so if you wish, you could tag along.”

Kouki was silent, weighing out his options. His last trip to the village had been terrifying. Then again, he’d been accompanied by two people who had no concern for his safety, and more so about their own interests. Reo would be the one with him this time, and Kouki felt confident that he would be safe in the head chamberlain’s hands.

“Nothing will happen to you, Kou-chan,” Reo assured, somehow eavesdropping on his thoughts. “I promise.”

Not only would Akashi have his head if something did in fact transpire, but Reo had begun to take a liking to the masqueraded boy. Whether it was the fact he brought his superior extreme joy or some other matter, he did have a refreshing and delicate aura to be around. Not to mention he was extremely kindhearted, and rarely made any selfish demands. If he could, he’d rather like to ensure that Kouki had some fun for once.

“Okay,” he mumbled, “Is there anything I need before we go? I don’t need to change, do I?”

Reo tapped his chin in thought. “If anyone will be getting stares, it’ll be me, but you might want to conceal yourself. A girl being escorted through town by one of the emperor’s men might put eyes on you as well.”

Glancing back toward his room, Kouki frowned at the sight of his sealed closet. Inside there were many dresses, and a coat or two, but nothing that would completely mask his identity. He glanced at the chamberlain and wanted to sigh, shaking his head instead.

“I don’t think I have anything like that.”

Reo laughed softly. “Sei-chan has many cloaks.” He gently took the other’s hand and hauled him from the balcony. “Come, I’m sure he won’t mind if we borrow one.”

 

 

 

 

 

The town’s market was oddly vacant for that early in the afternoon. Typically, Kouki was used to this being the most bustling part of the day, when the majority of the trade was being done and residents strolled the main streets as they pursued their daily errands. It could just be the particular area they were exploring, but the discovery was still curious. And despite it, he could feel every remaining eye trained on Mibuchi and him as they made their way through.

Discreetly tugging on his cloak to disguise himself more, he kept pace with Reo's elegant strides, not wanting to get left behind even if he knew the chamberlain would never abandon him. The last time he’d been in town wasn’t a pleasant experience, and though he was accompanied and it was still daylight, he still felt wary. The passersby ogling the pair of them, or more likely, Reo in his official robes, didn’t help his nerves any either.

Casting his eyes to the side, he was greeted by a heartening smile, Reo likely sensing the anxious aura he was putting off in droves. The sight gave him a lift, and he reaffirmed in his mind that he was in good company. Akashi himself regularly assigned the man to look after him. He had to be someone the royal trusted completely – and Kouki trusted his judgment in return.

They continued to browse the various shopfronts, never lingering too long at any one in particular. After a time they came upon a cluster of small stores, and Kouki was briefly surprised when the raven laid a hand on his shoulder to halt his movement.

“There’s a shop here I need to go into for a little while,” Reo explained, “If you’d like, there’s a flower stand next door you can look around while I do. It’ll be close enough that if anything happens, I can be there in an instant.”

He faintly nodded, a bit apprehensive about being separated. But if the elder thought it would be safe, he’d have to believe he wouldn’t throw him in harm’s way.

_Scratch that,_ Kouki thought somewhat humorously, _If he did, then he’d never hear the end of it from Sei._

Besides, when had flowers ever failed to soothe his frazzled nerves? Of anything, that’s what he would have wanted to look at in town, so here was his chance. He doubted they’d compare to the breathless landscaping of the palace gardens, but they would still be pretty and he would enjoy looking at them.

“Just be careful. It will be fine. This should only take me a few minutes at the most,” Reo tacked on, patting his shoulder a second time reassuringly.

“Okay,” Kouki eventually spoke, “See you in a little while, then.”

He was loathed to leave his escort’s side due to the comfort he felt being with him, but it was temporary. Nothing was going to happen to him, he just needed to settle down and realize that. They were only going to be next door to one another, and in a few minutes, they’d reunite for the rest of their journey.

After they parted, Mibuchi made his way into the business he’d been seeking, drawing a small sack from his pockets as he did. This was the reason for the entire errand, and with any luck, he wouldn’t have to spend a lot of energy ensuring that it would be dealt with and out of his hair.

“Hello there,” he greeted the shopkeeper, tossing the bag onto the counter between them.

“What’s this?” the man returned, poking the item in question.

“His majesty I believe already put in the request some time ago. I trust you’ll be handling it immediately? Once you see what’s inside, it should be obvious what needs to be done.”

A flicker of recognition lit in the owner’s eyes. Glad that it was that simple, Reo’s lips creased in a smile.

“Take good care of it. I’ll be back in an hour or so to pick up the finished product.”

Flouncing back out the way he came, Reo swung around the corner to where the flower stand was located. He immediately spotted the head of chestnut ringlets surveying one of bins of wildflowers and made a beeline toward the masqueraded boy.

“See? Already done!” he chirped in self-satisfaction as he drew nearer to where Furihata was browsing.

“That _was_ really quick.”

Kouki bestowed a relieved look on him, and for a moment Reo's heart clenched as he realized just how nervous the other must have been to be on his own in the town. The incident was still fresh, after all, and here he was, back near where it had taken place. It was a wonder he had agreed to the plan at all.

“Did you see any flowers that you liked?” he interjected sympathetically, offering a kind expression as he gestured around the stands.

Kouki continued to stare in awe. “They’re all so pretty,” he whispered, “It’s so hard to choose.”

He moved from one bin to the next, absorbing the beauty of each and every blossom they held. Many of them he recognized from his old playing grounds as a child, bringing forth a bitter sweetness to him. But none of them were any of the flowers that the palace was garnished with, and only then did he realize how rare the ones back there must have been.

So typical of Akashi.

A sudden motion to his side jarred him from his trance, and he realized Mibuchi was patiently waiting. Cheeks ablaze, Kouki quickly pulled away from the displays and rounded his attention back to the head chamberlain.

“I’m done,” he squeaked, “Sorry if I took so long.”

Reo laughed softly. “No need to apologize. Take all the time you need. There’s no rush.”

Once they had wrapped things up in that shop, the duo continued their journey throughout the large town, trailing deeper into where it grew more crowded with people. Kouki paused in his steps when another jet of colors decorated the sky, gesturing to the steps they had yet to tread.

“It must be coming from this way.” Furihata pointed. “I wonder what they’re from?”

He ignored the many stares they gleaned and continued to track the object’s path, determined to undercover why so many wonderful colors were decorating the sky.

“Ah, I know what it is,” Reo announced suddenly when they entered another area. “It’s preparations for the Starlite Festival.”

Kouki cocked his head to the side. “Starlite Festival?”

Mibuchi nodded. “Yes. Every twenty years or so, the town hosts this huge festival where there’s all different types of food, games, and fireworks. It’s a rather large event, and given it only happens every so often, they try to make it as grand as possible.”

Every twenty years? No wonder he had never heard of it. He’d hardly been alive that long, and would have been an infant or less during the last one.

Yet he’d be lying if he said his curiosity wasn’t bugging him to indulge further.

“Do… do you think we can go get a closer look as they setup? I’d like to see it, if you don’t mind.”

Reo smiled, gladdened to know Kouki wasn’t as apprehensive as he had first seemed, and held out his hand for extra security.

“I don’t see why not. We have plenty of time to kill, and there’s nothing we have to rush back for.” He felt Kouki's fingers curl around his, ignoring the lingering stares and charged forward. “Let’s make an adventure out of it, Kou-chan.”

 

* * *

It was nearing dusk when the two returned. Kouki found it hard to believe they were in the village for that long, as they had left for it just after two o’ clock. The second he stepped on the palace grounds, Akashi had swept him into his embrace, despite the fact he wasn’t alone. His hands wound loosely around Akashi's shoulders, his gaze shifting to where the sullen chamberlain stood. Reo was grimacing, eyes closing as he gusted a small sigh.

“I apologize, your majesty,” he had spoken, “Kou… Kiku-sama was having a fun time in the village. I didn’t want to take that away from her. Nothing happened, I assure you.”

Akashi nodded in understanding, becoming aware that there indeed were others around. Slowly he released the masqueraded boy from his grasp as to not further embarrass him, and stepped to the side. His attention was once more on Mibuchi, who had begun to retrieve a small sack from his pocket.

“There were no issues with this?” Reo shook his head at the inquiry. “Good to know.”

Kouki’s brows furrowed, his curious nature badgering him to discover what was in that bag. But it was instantly forgotten when Akashi led him through the gates, shuffling them toward a certain direction. He couldn’t have been more thrilled when he pinpointed where, having been completely famished from their trip to the village.

 

 

 

After their meal, he headed to his room to unwind, only then discovering how exhausted he was. And thus, he now stood, with the emperor standing behind as he began to carefully brush out the knots the dark tresses had gathered during their excursion. He watched as Akashi’s fingers plucked another leaf from the false mane, tossing it into the wastebasket beside them. A sudden gust had decided to roll in during their trip to the village, and his long tresses had taken most of the impact.

“Um,” he began, catching sight of the luminous gaze in the mirror, “You’re not mad at Mibuchi-san … right?”

“Of course not,” was the simple reply, “I have no need for worry when Reo is involved. I was simply curious why you were taking so long to return when you have a dislike for crowds.”

Kouki bowed his head, hiding his pinkened cheeks. “It’s because Mibuchi-san was there. It’s not a problem if you or him are.”

Akashi was silent as he continued to detangle the silken locks. Racking his brain for the next topic, and trying to rid the spacious room of the awkward atmosphere, Kouki's attention shifted to the large bouquet that was stationed on top of his vanity.

“Oh, that reminds me.” Akashi was once more staring at his reflection. “They had flower rings there… they were flowers with a string through them… s-so I can take the broken tassel and make them into that. If you still have it, that is….”

This caused the ending of his grooming. Puzzled, Kouki watched as the royal placed the brush aside to remove the small bag from his pocket.

“There’s no need.” He shook the pouch to free whatever was inside. “I’ve already taken care of that.”

Grasping Kouki's hand, he transferred into his palm a white-gold bracelet with a small locket attached to the side of it. The design appeared simple, but Kouki knew otherwise, and immediately began to object.

“I-I can’t have this! This is really expensive! You don’t have to keep giving me so many—”

A finger pressed to his lips.

“It belonged to my mother.” Akashi’s tone was low, the sorrow clear as a bell. “She wanted me to give it to someone that I would grow to love. I had Reo take it for repairs since a few of the links were damaged.” He glanced over at Kouki, his expression earnest, though his eyes still had the same luminosity to them. “Will you accept it, Kouki?”

Looking at the one he cherished, Kouki mulled the question over. For Akashi to give him such a valuable artifact, one that meant so much, was a display of his love that few things could match. With how intoxicated he'd felt around the royal lately, Kouki knew he couldn't pretend to be unaffected. Besides, if he let himself think about it, the fact that Seijuro would present him with this gift made his heart weightless with joy.

He inclined his head.

Seijuro then smiled fondly, reaching for one of his hands. Bending his own head, he pressed his lips against the soft skin, making no bones about showing how euphoric he was. He then slid the trinket down over his wrist and secured it in place.

“Tonight, you’ll stay in your room.” He chuckled at the confusion in the hazel eyes. “I know you felt awkward this morning and last night by being in mine.”

Kouki’s lips twitched in protest, but remained sealed when the other resumed speaking.

“However, if you ever need me for anything, you are more than welcome to come to me. No matter the circumstances.”

Sealing his mind to any objecting, Kouki only silently nodded. He didn’t wish to intrude, despite the lingering feeling that refused to diminish in him. Whatever it was it would soon vanish. At least he hoped so.

“Now, we have a few hours before we retire. Unless you wish to now?” Kouki shook his head. “Then, do you wish to enlighten me about your day with Reo?”

Beaming at the suggestion, he nodded enthusiastically and rushed to sit at the table in the middle of the room, waiting for the emperor to follow suit.

 

* * *

Whether it was the chilly night air, the noises on the grounds outside his windows, or the nightmare he had woken up from just moments ago, Kouki wasn’t sure. All he knew was… he was extremely restless. Rolling around in the large, plush bed, he fought to attain peace, but was completely unsuccessful. He sat up, pulling back the curtains that shielded his bed, and hopped down into the dim light.

Kouki stumbled around the room until he reached the table with his many books stacked on it. Maybe if he sat there for a while and continued to read the one he recently started, he would somehow become sleepy again.

Page after page he flipped, the plot that was once intriguing, no longer holding his attention. Tossing the book back on the table, he pulled a spare throw blanket around his shoulders and wandered to another section of the suite, hoping his constant movement would begin to tire out his mind as well.

The teakettle that was seated on the round edge table, reflected in the faint gleam of the candles on the wall. Kouki carefully lifted it, discovering it not to be entirely chilled yet, but surprisingly still lukewarm. Though, he wasn’t sure if the temperature of it would be enough to lure him back to sleep.

With a sigh, he pushed the idea aside and pouted when he couldn’t produce the next. Frustrated, he slammed the kettle back down on the table, a sudden clang against it catching his attention.

He peered down to notice that the bracelet hanging delicately from his wrist had been the source. Glancing at the elegant piece, he recalled when Akashi pressed a kiss to his palm before placing the cherished trinket carefully on his wrist.

Akashi.

Was that why he couldn’t fall sleep? Because he had spent the night with the emperor instead of by himself? That even if it had only been one time, that he had instantly grown accustomed to the arrangement?

Pacing, Kouki frowned. How was that possible, and after only one night? Could his attachment to Seijuro be stronger than he originally thought? He did care for him… love, if he could say, though that term was foreign and terrifying to think of. But he had no idea being without him for one night would cause this much of an impact.

And Akashi had told him he was welcomed in his quarters whenever he wished.

The only issue with that was, it was already way past midnight, easily treading into the hours of the morning, and he knew by now the emperor was most likely fast asleep. And he of all people needed as much rest as possible.

But the longing was consistent, and refused to cease until it was granted a solution, preferably the one it was yearning for.

Huffing at his fickle and irritating emotions, his mind was made up. Kouki threw on the false tresses and began to make the cautious journey out of his suite and into the vacant hallways.

Thankfully, they were more illuminated than his room, making his path to the emperor’s domain a bit easier. Rounding the corner, he nearly collided with two servants who were engaged in a discussion, not too far away from his destination. Kouki edged back against the wall, waiting with bated breath for them to head down another hallway.

“Kou-chan?” The sudden voice startled him. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but why are you roaming the halls so late at night? Is there something the matter?”

Mibuchi studied the solemn expression, and realized where Furihata’s eyes were wandering to. Peering at what lied ahead, he offered him one of his usual smiles.

“Ah, I see. You wish to go to Sei-chan?” Reo sighed wearily at the two women chatting so loudly by his superior’s quarters. What was so difficult about understanding the instruction to not disturb the royal? “Don’t fret. I’ll take care of them.”

He then trekked down the hallway, his turquoise eyes narrowing at the two women, who instantly became silent.

“Do you not know how to listen?” he hissed, “These are quiet hours, and look where you’re standing! Right by his majesty’s doors. Have you no shame?”

They bowed their heads, offering their deepest apologies, but he paid them no mind, shuffling them off with a whish of his hands.

“Off with you. Get moving.”

Once all was clear, Kouki departed from his hiding spot and rushed to where the chamberlain was waiting. Together they traversed the rest of the path, Kouki debating on if he was making the correct choice.

“Do you think Akashi-san will be upset if I wake him?” he asked softly, “I don’t want to bother him.”

Reo laughed gingerly. “I think he’d be more upset in knowing that you wanted to see him, but never came. Don’t worry about it. He’ll be more than happy to know you wanted to stay with him instead.”

Kouki nodded, glancing up at the dark circles that tarnished Reo's usual vibrant eyes. It instantly reminded him of the powerful man he was so fond of. Did anyone in this place ever get proper sleep?

“Mibuchi-san.” Kouki was once more frowning, this time out of concern. “How come you’re not sleeping? You’ll be tired later, won’t you?”

The chamberlain offered another soft smile. “Kou-chan, please call me Reo.” He paused to gust another sigh. “I was about to head to bed after I made my rounds. I had one more section of the palace to check, and then I would be done. It was just fortunate I discovered you beforehand.”

Their destination reached, Kouki held off on any more discussion. Especially since he planned on entering Akashi’s chambers as quietly as possible. He glanced up at Mibuchi and silently mouthed his thanks before placing his hand in the middle of the two doors.

“Good night, Kou-chan. I hope you’re able to sleep now.”

Bowing his head, Kouki hid his flushed cheeks and gingerly pushed open the doors. Once inside, he rushed to seal them, hoping none of the light from outside had leaked in. He splayed his hands out before him, using them as a guide through the darkened room, and hopefully toward where he remembered the bed was located. Akashi’s room was a bit easier to maneuver around, given the fact it was five times larger than his, and had more space to spread the furniture out evenly.

His steps paused, his ears concentrating on the low breathing and the rustling of sheets when Akashi moved in his sleep. Using that as his direction, he made it to the bed, carefully feeling around to confirm he would be climbing into an empty space and not straight on top of him. It shook slightly, causing him to freeze, the diminishing candles giving him a shadowy view of where exactly Akashi was.

Convinced he was in the clear, he resumed his climb, slowly moving as to not jostle the bed. The candles flickered a second time, showing him a flash of the emperor and causing his cheeks to once more pinken at the open-chested attire he had on. Akashi was resting on his side, his veiled gaze facing in Kouki’s direction, hands nestled on top of the thick comforter that only concealed his lower half.

Knees poised on the silken pane, Kouki took the moment to admire the beautiful portrait before him. Asleep, Seijuro appeared tranquil, at ease, but as he continued to gaze, the more he was discovering signs of how depleted the newly-crowned emperor truly was. The thick circles that were under his closed, mismatched eyes, the faint lines that appeared whenever his forehead wrinkled. All these signs made Kouki debate if he should intrude.

But as Mibuchi’s words echoed in his memory, he found himself moving Seijuro’s arms aside, carefully sliding into the small space.

Nudging the fabric, Kouki laid his head on the royal’s torso, relishing in the instant warmth that ensnared him. His hand splayed across his chest, the placid rhythm of Akashi’s pulse drumming against his fingers. His eyes felt heavy, the luring melody slowly dragging him back into slumber’s cradle.

Was this how it was to be from now on? Kouki couldn’t help but wonder. That he would always need to have Akashi within range, especially at night when he was so restless? That by simply spending one night with him… and the afternoons, and all the free time Akashi could grant him… by that alone, he was now adapted to a new routine? But how would that play a role when he….

Kouki discarded the harrowing thought. He didn’t need to sulk about that now, not when the warmth around him was so inviting.

Tucking his head under Akashi’s chin, he put his mind at ease and allowed himself to finally tumble into the throes of sleep. **  
**

 

 

 

 

 

Wrinkling his nose in confusion, Seijuro was hauled from his slumber. His hand moved to swat at the offending object that was irritating him and disturbing his quest to remain asleep. When it refused to budge, his eyes cracked open, narrowing at the intrusion, but instantly softened when he came to discover what it was.

He chuckled lightly. “How did I not see this coming?”

Carefully propping the masqueraded boy against the pillows, Akashi began to ease off the false mane. Often, Kouki would fall asleep with it on, but he would later complain about how itchy it was when he did so. Even if he was reluctant to part with it since it was the vital piece to his disguise. Once removed, Akashi tossed it to a vacant part of the bed and gently reassembled Kouki back into his arms, after assuring he was still asleep.

Dropping a kiss to the top of his head, he pulled him as close as humanly possible.

“Sleep well, Kouki,” he murmured, as his eyes slid closed once more.

 

 

 

 

Not too much after, the one in the emperor's arms stirred, having been roused by the various motions of him being tucked in.

Elevating his head, Kouki allowed the warm breath to fan delightfully against his cheeks. His forehead crinkled, puzzled by the display next to him. Had Akashi really gone back to sleep that quickly? Testing his theory, he waved a hand in front of his veiled eyes, receiving no response in return.

As he surveyed the inert form, Kouki debated on his next act. Akashi appeared to be asleep, so maybe he could….

Leaning forward, he matched his mouth to the royal’s, gusting an inaudible sigh when he made no movement. He retreated a ways, pacing his breath as he quietly debated on moving forward. Conquered, and with another surge of spontaneous courage, he began to repeat his gesture, but was halted by a sudden voice, causing him to freeze in his path.

“If you continue to do that, there is no hope of you going back to sleep.”

Kouki retreated, his cheeks tinged at being caught in the act. He should have known, should have known!

Akashi only hummed at the lack of a retort and tugged him back into his embrace.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He ran a fingertip down Kouki’s cheek. “Is there something that was bothering you?”

Kouki bowed his head. How was he to expose that it was the lack of warmth - preferably Seijuro’s – that made him so restless? Instead, he opted for shaking his head, dismissing the question all together to utter what he hoped was a decent reply.

“It was… hard to. I don’t know why.” He stared at the thick circles under the mismatched eyes. “I felt bad about coming here and waking you up….”

Akashi exhaled huffily. “Did I not tell you to come to me whenever you needed?”

“That’s what Mibuchi-san said… he said you’d be upset if you knew I wanted to, but didn’t.”

“And as always,” the royal laughed softly, “Reo is correct.”

Hesitantly, Kouki’s fingers rose to touch underneath the golden orb. “But you really need sleep, Akashi-san,” he whispered, “You look really tired.”

His complexion only gained another stage of pink when his hand was snatched, Akashi planting a quick kiss on the top of it.

“I’ll sleep better in knowing you’re here, Kouki. That is, if you plan to stay.”

Furihata nodded, once more take refugee on the emperor’s chest, allowing him to dance his fingers across his shoulders and down his back in a soothing manner. He clutched at the fabric, nudging his nose into it to inhale the scent that consisted entirely of Akashi, allowing the warmth to cocoon him.

“You’re safe now, Kouki. Nothing will ever happen to you while you’re in my grasp. I’d never allow it.”

* * *

It was because of moments like these that Kouki was beginning to realize how much he relied on the chamberlain’s company. While he wasn’t Seijuro, Reo did fill his absence quite skillfully. Not as flawlessly as Akashi did, but enough to where he felt secure.

For now they lounged in the gardens, indulging in a book from a new shipment in the library that Akashi had recently ordered. Kouki relished in the vivid illustrations, the pristine words- as the numerous books he had read were smudged and barely legible- and of course, the wonderful scent of fresh pages. His sense of excitement hadn’t yet died down. Akashi seemingly always did things that surprised him, but this gift had particularly delighted him.

The chamberlain sat beside him, leaning over the book as to illustrate his interest. Truth be told, Mibuchi felt no draw to imaginary places, but if it brought Kouki happiness reading about them aloud, he was more than willing to listen. Kouki seemed to come out of his shell when it came to books, and had no issue in discussing for hours what he had read. A fact about him Reo wasn’t sure if Akashi himself knew.

A series of rapid footsteps soon broke their cordial bubble. Peering over the many bushes, Reo caught sight of the other chamberlain standing in the middle of the path, bouncing on his heels with a letter in hand. Hayama seemed almost anxious, uncertain of the next course of action he needed to take, and like he was reluctant to interrupt.

Excusing himself politely, Mibuchi rose, trying not to cringe at how cramped his limbs were from sitting in such a position for so long. He approached the blond in a huff, gesturing to the letter in his hand.

“Is that for Sei-chan?” Kotarou nodded. “Who is it from?”

Impatient for the answer, Reo yanked the letter from his hands, carefully undoing the ribbon to reveal the mystery writer. As his bright eyes scanned the print, he inwardly cringed, but maintained his placid demeanor.

This was definitely not the news he wanted, but he knew immediately that it must be delivered. He’d gather an earful for it, but it was vital that Akashi was warned.

“Thank you for bringing this to me, Kota-chan. I will see that it gets to his majesty’s hands instantly.”

Hayama seemed bewildered by this statement. “Eh, you’re going to give it to him?” He was still rocking on his heels. “Isn’t that usually my job?”

“Kota-chan, you should be _extremely_ grateful I’m doing this.” Reo gestured back to where the other occupant sat. “Stay with Kiku until I return, will you?”

Kotarou rushed to object. “What am I supposed to do if she needs something? I don’t know anything about her! You usually—”

“She’s reading,” Mibuchi interrupted with a winding sigh, “She’s not going to move from that spot. Trust me. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Trudging through the vacant hallways, Reo felt a sense of doom as he hurried to pass off the letter to his superior. If he had to be honest with himself, the first option would indeed have been less of a headache. The scroll in his hand was the last article he wanted to present to Akashi, for he knew the reaction he’d glean would be explosive. But to be fair to the one who had written it and Kouki as well, he knew he had to go through with this.

He released the confined breath he had been repressing and entered the throne room, silencing his anxiety. Only to discover it was oddly empty. How strange, since he knew Akashi had last been there before the chamberlain had ventured to keep Kouki company.

Perhaps he had relocated to his private quarters for some unknown reason. It did have potential if one of the council members had unexpectedly shown up, as they usually did.

When he was greeted with the same results, Reo was thoroughly stumped.

Akashi couldn’t have returned to Kouki, as he would have passed him along the way. He wouldn’t be absent from the palace by any means. Reo surely would have been informed if so. Then where else was there to search?

Chewing on his lip in thought, he found his feet unconsciously heading toward where the late emperor’s room was. Next to the suite was an office that Masaomi would use when going over various documents that his staff had unexpectedly dropped into his hands throughout the day. So was it possible Seijuro had encountered the same problem without his knowledge?

Gingerly pushing open the doors, Mibuchi was relieved when he uncovered a familiar head hunched over the desk. Briefly forgetting his risky mission, he entered the room, waiting patiently for his superior to grant him his attention.

Akashi’s head rose, mismatched eyes narrowing at the intrusion, but instantly relaxed when he realized who was standing there.

“Reo.” He nodded. “What brings you here? How is Kouki?”

Mibuchi laughed slightly. “He’s fine. In the gardens reading, but I have come because it has to do with him.”

Akashi’s elevated brow told him all he needed. Reluctantly, Mibuchi handed over the scroll, stepping back to observe his superior’s expression.

“It’s from Kuroko,” he spoke cautiously.

Untying the scroll, Akashi’s eyes skimmed over the print. “He says he’ll be returning in a few days.” He tsked as he reached the end of it, rolling it back to its previous state. “How troublesome that he will come all this way, but I do need to discuss the arrangement with him. Perhaps I should allow this to pass so he knows to come.”

“Arrangement?” Now it was Reo’s turn to be confused; he hadn’t expected this reaction. “What arrangement, Sei-chan?”

The emperor leaned back in the plush chair. “Kouki only brought a few items with him because he was told this would be a short trip. If he’s permanently staying, he’ll want the rest of his possessions, which are still at Tetsuya’s.”

Reo was flabbergasted. “So, Kou-chan will be staying with us from now on?”

A short chuckle expelled from Akashi's lips. “Reo, I thought you were wiser than that. Of course he will be. What made you think otherwise?”

The chamberlain laughed nervously, shrugging his shoulders. Something about this wasn’t settling right with him. When had Akashi and Furihata discussed this, and why wasn’t he informed? Surely he would have rushed around to arrange a permanent suite for the boy.

“I guess I wasn’t thinking.” He pushed aside his concern on the matter. “Should I go and inform Kou-chan? He’s in the garden with Kota-chan.”

Akashi’s amusement instantly dissipated. “You left him with Kotarou?”

Before Mibuchi could utter a response, Akashi had rushed from the room and down the hall to where the patio doors were still open. His eyes swiftly searched the large space, discovering the two over in one section of the garden. Hayama was next to Kouki, studying him suspiciously with narrowed, bewildered eyes, and causing the masqueraded boy to back up against one of the trees.

“Kotarou.” The tone of his superior caused him to jump, nearly landing in Furihata’s lap. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He quickly leapt forward, standing straight on his feet.

“Aaaahh, sorry, Akashi,” he apologized, “but there’s something really familiar about her that I can’t put my finger on!”

Seijuro noticed the fretful expression on his beloved jewel, practically glued to the tree trunk and hazel eyes still trembling. Restraining his impending anger at the situation, he chose to sigh heavily and wave his hand to cast Hayama aside.

“You’re imagining things. Go back to Reo, and return to your usual post.”

Nodding enthusiastically, the second chamberlain sped from their sight and back into the palace, leaving the two to their solitude. Akashi approached the unmoving figure and knelt beside him, brushing delightfully warm fingertips across his cheek.

“Did he startle you?” Kouki shook his head, eyes returning to their usual state. “I apologize for that. He can be a bit…” Akashi’s brows furrowed as he tried to produce the correct word, but failed miserably. “Never mind that. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Confused, Kouki paid him his full attention.

“Tetsuya has written to me,” Akashi began, “saying that he will be returning in a few days.”

The words pinched at his heart. He had expected them yes, but not this soon. It was apparent now that he couldn’t sleep alone, that parting from Akashi was going to be more painstaking than he ever imagined, if he could even stomach it.

Seijuro noticed how hunched his posture had become, the newly somber cast to his eyes **.**

“Do you want me to tell him not to come yet?”

Kouki shook his head. No, that wouldn’t have been right. After all, Kuroko was probably anxious to see him, and he’d be lying if he didn’t feel the same.

“No,” he replied softly, “I don’t want to concern him. H-he can come when he says he’s going to.”

Akashi nodded at the response. “Very well. I won’t respond to him, then, so he knows to go along with the original plan he has in mind.”

Pouting, Kouki was concerned at how placid the emperor’s tone was. It wouldn’t have been an issue if he hadn’t sounded so bitter, so resentful each time Kuroko was brought up? Did he not want him to stay? Were his feelings suddenly changing and he didn’t wish to inform him?

The thought granted him a hollowed pit, and Kouki had to bite back the impending nausea.

“I have a few matters I need to discuss with him as well,” Akashi continued, unaware of his inner turmoil. “They could be done later on, but if you prefer him coming with what he planned, I will have to bring those up then.”

Kouki’s lips moved to question, but when the chamberlain who had given him so much attention reappeared, he knew this discussion was over. He watched as Akashi sighed, leaning forward to press another kiss to his forehead, and then he was vanishing from his sight.

He paid no attention to Mibuchi now standing beside him, but more so at retreating form of the elegant and powerful ruler. As much as he wished to, Kouki knew, there was no point in questioning anything. Not when Seijuro’s mind was made up.

He only wished that the situation he was woefully envisioning wasn't the one he'd settled upon.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Trailing his hand over the smooth silk, Tetsuya pondered carefully, debating on whether he thought it would suit Furihata’s tastes. He was never wholly certain what the masqueraded boy might enjoy wearing. For the most part, he wore simple dresses at their home, but he’d also seen the other’s eyes sparkle with wonder gazing up on more elegant ensembles from time to time. What sort should Kuroko bring with him when he went to retrieve him?

Various sounds from the bustling marketplace set the backdrop as he slowly made his way around the stalls, searching for just the right gift to bestow.

Either clothes or jewelry were a safe option, but Kuroko decided he’d also make it a point for them to obtain more books on the journey home. Both Furihata and he were avid readers after all, and his companion would likely treasure some new additions to the library. That present, he’d wait on however, until he was back in his care, so the other might select the precise volumes that interested him.

Kuroko regretted that he’d had to leave Furihata behind for his mission. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but given the uncertain nature of what he’d come here to do, having him stay elsewhere was a necessary evil.

Since he’d known him, they had rarely been apart, and he had no way of knowing how Furihata had fared their separation. It had taken longer than he’d thought to settle his affairs here, and he could only hope that he was thriving at the palace, unlikely as that seemed. When he’d departed, he’d known that though it was one of the safest places to leave his ward, anywhere unfamiliar to him was bound to be a tough pill to swallow.

Furihata didn’t adjust well to new places or people. Call it a side effect of the masqueraded boy’s nauseating past, but such situations made him anxious and on edge, and there was nothing that Tetsuya could say to allay those deep-rooted fears.

And then there was the new emperor. Akashi had been raised with the best of manners, but a man in his position wasn't likely to have much time to spend entertaining a last-minute guest. Kuroko wondered how Furihata had managed to occupy himself over the week, even if he was in a grand place such as the palace. Surely he had to be yearning for the comfort of home.

“Oi, Tetsu!” a booming voice sliced through his introspection. “What the hell are we- ow!”

Kuroko glanced over at the now crouching form of his guard, Kagami’s fist still hovering above warningly.

When would they ever learn? It seemed like every five minutes, his two protectors were involved in some ludicrous altercation. Discarding the interruption with a weary sigh, Kuroko returned to shuffling through the numerous feminine items, eyes moving onto the jewelry section. Behind him, he heard Kagami clear his throat, and then politely turned to grant him his attention.

“Uh, what exactly are you looking for, Kuroko? We’ll be leaving in a few days, so is there anything we need for the trip back?”

Tetsuya’s attention returned to the many display boxes on the table. “I am looking for a gift to give to Kiku-san,” was the simple answer he echoed. “Something that will hopefully ease the nerves she must be dealing with while staying in the palace.”

The answer motivated Daiki to rise from the ground, sauntering toward where the two of them stood. His fist was protruded, ready to strike the other male who had rudely decked him in the gut. But his master was quick to interfere, stepping between them before anything could commence.

“Stop acting like a child, Aomine-kun,” Kuroko scolded, “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

Daiki ignored him entirely. “Hey, idiot! Who gave you to the right to sock me like that?! Why I oughta—”

Once more he found himself hunched over when Kuroko’s cane swung upward. Stepping over the taller male, Tetsuya glanced down at him, eyes dull, but the narrowed stance revealed he was at his limit with dealing with the other’s juvenile behavior.

“Enough.”

Rolling his eyes at the scene, Taiga shot Daiki a smug look before orbiting by his superior’s side. Kuroko seemed hell-bent on finding the perfect gift for the girl who lived with them, and he could only assume it was because he was skeptical on how to calm her when he went to collect her from the palace. Then again, Taiga was certain the moment she was back in Kuroko's care, she would be at ease.

But of course, somebody didn’t seem to grasp that concept.

“Why’re you making such a big deal about buying her something, Tetsu?” An obnoxious voice once more played the role of an interruption. “You’re not married to the chick, not even dating her. You’re her caregiver, so why do you have to give her so many damn gifts?”

Leave it to Daiki to be as clueless as ever.

“I believe I’ve already explained that, Aomine-kun.” His frustration was beginning to seep into his tone. “I don’t wish to repeat myself.”

Eager to spare himself from his superior’s wrath, Taiga chose not to comment, settling on browsing the tables for himself. Surveying the crafts, his dark eyes landed on a box that was displaying an exceptionally vibrant piece. A piece that resembled the girl as a whole, her passion, and where she was usually found during her free time.

“Hey, Kuroko. Come over here and look at this one.”

Nudging the rambling Daiki aside, Tetsuya strode over to the table, eyes peeled for what his attendant was intrigued by.

When he arrived, he noticed Kagami pointing to one of the boxes, his gaze landing on the elegant piece that outshone all those surrounding it. Grasping the box carefully, he held it up to eye level, the sunlight reflecting the gem in the center and dressing it in a radiant splendor.

“It’s perfect, Kagami-kun.”

* * *

It had been enigmatic enough that he hadn’t seen Akashi since last night. But when the chamberlain strolled into his room and broke from his usual routine to begin to move his stuff out, Kouki felt as though he had swallowed his heart. Usually Reo would have brought him breakfast as he did every morning, so Kouki could only assume everything was altered for one reason. Strangely, neither Reo nor Seijuro had mentioned Kuroko’s arrival, and as far as he knew, it wasn’t supposed to be for another few days. Perhaps he had arrived earlier than expected and he wasn’t aware of it?

That would have been a logical solution. But when his stuff was deposited into another room, much larger than the previous, and with a different arrangement, Kouki’s confusion only magnified.

At length, Mibuchi finished hanging up his dresses in the spacious closet, closing the doors before revolving to face him with a wide smile. Stepping from that part of the suite, he then pushed open the balcony doors and gestured for the masqueraded boy to follow him. Still hopelessly confused, Kouki obeyed and strode out into the gleaming morning, peering over the balcony at the magnificent location he adored reading in.

“Sei-chan thought you would prefer a room that overlooked the gardens instead,” was the chamberlain’s answer to his puzzle.

Kouki frowned. What was the point of switching his room when Kuroko would be arriving soon? Shuffling his belongings around when they would be removed anyway seemed like a lot of work for little gain.

The musing caused his desolation to resurface. His demeanor trended gloomy, knowing he would be departing soon, but for Seijuro to make these kinds of adjustments for him now made him feel horrible. Not that he didn’t appreciate everything both he and the chamberlain did for him, but it was too much. Mibuchi had countless other tasks to attend to on top of taking care and watching over him.

And Akashi?

He was the most stressed out individual of them all, and Kouki was beginning to sense he was only adding to that burden.

Perhaps it wasn’t such a terrible thing that Kuroko would be returning to take him home. As much as he loved Seijuro, he cared deeply for his well-being, and the weight of being the most powerful man in the country was more than enough. Akashi constantly having to worry about him or assuring he was kept happy was a burden he shouldn’t have to carry.

Maybe it was a blessing he hadn’t seen the man since then, for it meant was a chance he could begin to somehow wean himself off their connection.

Not that Kouki wished to, but if they were to part in a few days, wouldn’t it be easier to see less of one another? His role as emperor seemed to have Seijuro tied up for the day, and he could put his extremely tough (and nearly impossible) plan to action.

It would also give the man a break in having to assure he was content. Something Akashi refused to ever see not happen.

Kouki sighed wearily. Oh well, at least he had a better view of the village from here, along with the myriad flowers and greenery.

A light tap curbed his thoughts. Odd. Mibuchi said he would be returning within the hour, and it had only been about ten minutes since he left. Pushing that aside, Kouki granted the person entrance, eyes narrowing in bewilderment when one of the servants he knew stepped through. She graced him with a smile before bowing lowly.

“Will you be having breakfast on the new terrace, my lady? Akashi-sama said to ask you beforehand.”

Furihata’s nose wiggled. New terrace? Was she referring to his new location? If so, the thought did sound nice, and he was pretty hungry, famished in fact.

He nodded. “That sounds wonderful. Yes, I will have it there.”

“The garden won’t be a problem, I hope,” she laughed softly, “Flowers surround it, but there shouldn’t be anything to disrupt your meal.”

Kouki blinked. Wait, so she wasn’t referring to his room? Excusing himself, he rushed out the balcony doors to stare over the edge. Eyes scanning the space below, he tried not to laugh at what he uncovered in the background, hidden by the many colorful posies. But why should that have been any of a surprise to him?

It was almost amusing that he saw one side of Akashi, while everyone else was graced with another. One they all feared and would practically bend over backwards to assure they didn’t provoke the wrath of. But it didn’t matter to him. He adored both, for they were the two that made up the whole that was Seijuro.

A whole he was already yearning for even though it had only been a few hours. Some plan this was already turning out to be. He had only recently decided on it, less than five minutes ago, and he was already going against it by craving to see the other.

How pathetic he was. He already couldn’t sleep without the emperor, so where did that play in when trying to avoid him? If he went through with this fully, he would never fall asleep, and would be caught restlessly tossing and turning until either exhaustion ambushed him or morning came.

But he would somehow overcome that, because if he didn’t, then he couldn’t proceed with moving forward for the next few days.

And in the end, that would cost him.

* * *

Kouki had never witnessed such luminance in the night sky before. Not even on the nights when it was encased with numerous twinkling stars to where he felt he was gazing up at a sea of endless splendor. The multicolor sparks from the fireworks trailed down until they dissipated from view, and another round was shortly released, gracing him with yet another wondrous display.

The view from the balcony was spectacular, giving him a grand scene of the highlight of the celebration, but it was the only part he was able to glimpse. The sounds yes, vague as they were, he could still detect a soft flute playing followed by the sound of drums. Amidst the village was a lively festival, a place where, if not all of the town, but most had gathered to admire an entity that occurred only every two decades.

And he was missing out on it.

He knew Akashi wouldn’t permit him to go alone - not that he would take that risk - but he also knew Mibuchi was tied up with numerous tasks. It wasn’t fair that the chamberlain had to attend to everything Kouki needed when he was already overworked. The chamberlain’s official job wasn’t to oversee him; it hadn’t been so before his arrival at the palace a week or so ago, so why would it be now? As Akashi’s head assistant, Reo was meant to be at his side for grander matters. And Akashi?

Kouki tried not to laugh at that option.

The thought of experiencing a rare event with Seijuro was painful to envision. Kouki yearned to go, to spend the hours with the one who meant everything to him at the festival, but knew he had to stick to his original plan.

If he was going to be parting from Akashi within a few days, he was going to do all he could to assure his already potent feelings wouldn’t flourish. No matter how impossible he knew that was going to be, the less contact they had the better.

A light tap on his doors diverted him from the balcony, the chamberlain’s usual entrance following shortly after. Kouki greeted him with a weak smile before his focus returned above as another row of colors basked the nightly skies. Noticing this, Reo leaned against the railing, his own bright eyes rising to stare at the glowing sphere.

“Ah, the fireworks are lovely.” His attention swiveled to the masqueraded boy who seemed captivated by the exhibit.

Reo noted the soft glimmer in the enlarged hazel eyes, instantly reminding him of how a child gazed in wonder at something that had caught their undivided attention. His lips twitched as though he was silently debating on his impending words, but instead, found himself soon rushing to ask.

“Do you wish to go to the festival, Kou-chan?”

Kouki should have been expecting the sudden inquiry, but it still managed to catch him off guard. He weighed the words in the decision part of his mind, discarding what he truly yearned for the sake of not overwhelming the chamberlain.

It would be selfish to make that request. Not to mention the sole companion he did want to go with, he knew he should be distancing himself from. Given how tied up Akashi had been throughout the day, his strategy was proceeding fairly well.

“No, that’s okay. I can watch from here.”

Reo frowned, displeased by the answer. “Is that all you’re going to do for the evening?” His head tilted to the side. “Stay in your room?”

The masqueraded boy tried not to cringe, the words seeming so mundane. It was the truth though; he would be extremely bored in a room he always became lost in. Even if he had enough books to entertain him, there was something much more interesting outside to lure him from within those walls.

Instead, he opted to shake his head, granting his silent answer.

“Very well.” Mibuchi seemed reluctant to depart, his hands resting on the door handles. “Please inform me if you need anything.”

Exiting from the masqueraded one’s quarters, Reo made his way down the endless hallways, passing by a flock of gossiping servants. How irritating for them to be so noisy late in the evening when these were the quiet hours. Discarding his annoyance, he continued his journey until he reached the familiar parted doors. He paused at the entrance to peer inside, breathing a sigh when he realized there was only a singular occupant, and not the group he had seen the last time he had been here.

It was a pity the last of his superior’s concealed areas for solitude had been discovered by the consistent badgering of the council.

He stepped through the archway, stumbling in just in time to see Akashi on another rampage. The emperor was seated at the desk, flipping through a stack of papers before slamming them down on the surface.

Reo flinched as one of the glass vases toppled to the floor, resulting in a shattering echo that vibrated throughout the room and into his sensitive ears. This mood was definitely not one he wanted to tamper with, but he knew once Kouki was mentioned, it would completely reverse itself.

Akashi paused in his tangent, mismatched eyes locking on the one awaiting permission.

“Reo.” He nudged his head. “Why have you come? Aren’t you supposed to be looking after Kouki?”

The chamberlain nodded. “Ah, yes, I was just with him, but I believe we may have a slight problem.”

At the perturbed glance he received, Mibuchi instantly regretted how he phrased his words. He shook his head slightly, laughing softly in hopes it would diminish the sudden worry.

“No, it’s not anything bad. It’s just…” He noticed how Akashi’s eyebrows were now lowered, knowing he had to quickly get to the point. “I think Kou-chan wants to go to the festival.”

He watched as Seijuro heaved a relieved sigh, tense muscles relaxing before he leaned back in the satin chair. He drummed his fingers on the surface as though reconsidering his response before his lips moved once more.

“If he wants to go, then he can go, but you’ll have to go with him. I can’t—”

Reo shook his head. “That’s the problem, Sei-chan. He doesn’t want to go with me. He wants to go with you.” Akashi’s gaze was once more on him, instantly putting him in the spotlight. “He won’t say it, but I can see it in his face.”

The chamberlain looked on as Seijuro’s nonchalant mien crumbled, his demeanor morphing into one of complete pensiveness as he continued to stare at him with hardened dichromatic eyes.

Perhaps mentioning the matter wasn’t one of his best ideas, after all.

Fidgeting in his seat, Kouki thumbed at another page dully, a sigh trapped within his throat. He’d had the brilliant idea of dragging a chair onto the open balcony so that he could read, but now that he’d started, reading was the last thing he felt like engaging in. Not when there was something far more captivating when he glanced over his shoulder.

At first it had been fine.

The words in his novel were as beautifully composed as ever, the plotlines something he would normally sink his teeth into and not let go of until the final detail had emerged. But then the music had lapped at his ears like the tide, coaxing him back to the view he had previously been lost in. Mix in the sounds of the fireworks scattering and the changes in the sky when one area was lit up, and distracting himself was impossible.

Kouki couldn’t help but to imagine what it would feel like at the center of the festival. What sights he’d get to see, what foods he could eat, and all the thrilling attractions within. Though the thought of a crowd pressing around him turned him off slightly, he was far more curious than anxious.

There was no avoiding the truth – he really wanted to go.

Setting the novel and his melancholy musings aside, Kouki debated on seeking out Mibuchi to let him know he’d reconsidered. If he did, he’d probably be a bother, seeing as how he’d already turned down the offer and sent the elder on his way. Reo was probably onto some other task by now, and to interrupt would be rude.

When Kouki mulled over the fact that he’d already wasted one of Mibuchi's days by chaperoning him around the village, he couldn’t bring himself to trudge forward.

He was asking for too much, guest or not. Kuroko was the only reason he was even staying here – the people around him hadn’t asked for the visit, he was imposing and likely complicating their normal routines. Soon he wouldn’t anymore, but that didn’t mean he wanted to in the intervening days.

Still, the draw of the festival was strong, and his selfishness was making a tantalizing case for him to try and attend.

For the briefest of moments, he entertained the notion of heading out by himself. He’d be disobeying Akashi’s mandate of him having an escort when leaving the palace, but this way, he wouldn’t be troubling either of the two men, both whom were already grievously busy.

Ultimately, however, he couldn’t overrule the sense of guilt that sparked at that plan. Kouki had seen how drained the emperor had been when he’d thought he’d lost him the previous night after the incident in the village. Maybe he’d allow the other time to work by not asking him to come, but the worry Akashi would suffer far outweighed any benefit there could be. He couldn’t risk it.

Then there was the sheer fact that being alone with so many strangers was terrifying to him. Having Seijuro there, or even Mibuchi, was the barrier he needed to feel at ease when he ventured out of his comfort zone. He could trust in them for protection, for companionship because they understood his unease. Going by himself would be asking for a disaster to occur.

Standing from his seat, Kouki returned to the railing, viewing the fireworks with creased, sorrowful eyes. Numerous feelings were roiling within him, and he knew not every one related back to this event he wanted to attend. Time was counting down faster than he desired, and his heart wasn’t following the lead his mind tried to set when it came to weaning himself of his lingering affections.

A sound at the doorway of his apartments redirected his gaze.

“Please come in,” he called out amiably.

It could only be one person at this hour, and though he really wished Reo would take his word that he was all right, the elder’s doting nature wouldn’t permit that. Likely he had returned with ideas to distract him from his solitude and bolster his mood.

Footsteps echoed behind him and Kouki waited, already looking back out at the vantage the night sky offered. He wondered if it was more wrong to lie and say he didn’t want to go to the festival in person, or for him to admit that truth to the chamberlain, knowing the burden he was placing on the man’s shoulders.

“Kouki.”

His name rang out crisply, instilling him with a sudden curiosity. He circled around, and hazel eyes widened at the surprising sight before him.

“Do you really plan on going to the festival in your nightclothes?”

His mouth twitched to answer, but he held off, instead surveying the garb the royal was sporting. Plain, rough-spun clothes covered over by a heavy cloak; the complete opposite of what he’d wear on a normal day. Kouki’s brows furrowed, and he barely allowed himself to hope, a giddy sensation brewing in his stomach.

“Don’t you have a lot of work? How can you possibly...” he began tremulously, inwardly cursing the rush of fondness he was feeling for the one who dominated his heart.

Seijuro stepped forward, grasping his hand and raising it to press a kiss upon the proffered skin.

“I believe I’ve told you before how important you are to me, Kouki. If I didn’t want to, or couldn’t, I wouldn’t toy with your feelings by coming here. Whoever needs to bother me can deal with my absence for a night.”

His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. Reluctant as he was to allow his selfishness to take control, Akashi was making the first move. Surely it would be ungrateful to turn him down after he’d skipped out on his duties to make his wish come true?

Kouki inclined his head, faintly nodding afterward.

“Good. Now why don’t you go ahead and get changed, then we’ll go,” Akashi suggested, breaking their connection.

Nodding once more, Furihata dashed back into the expanse of his room, thrilled at the journey they were about to embark on.

* * *

After witnessing the festival from the balcony, Kouki already knew it was going to be impressive. But there were no words to describe it when he was in the middle of it. Wonderful? Maybe. Incredible? Possibly. Absolutely breathtaking? That sounded about right.

The music was resonant, the kaleidoscopic displays much more radiant than what he had been able to snag a glimpse of. And the aromas were more tantalizing and appealing than he could have imagined. Everything from the smoke from the fading fireworks, down to the many stands around him was so much greater to behold from this vantage.

Kouki was having a difficult time in repressing his excitement as they trekked along the crowded streets. Fearful as he was about the multitude of strangers around them, it was a minor inconvenience that he was able to push aside for the joy of the festival. There was no way he was going to let that ruin something he’d probably never be able to experience again.

He was decked out in a flowery kimono – far more exquisite than any other attendee was wearing – but Akashi had insisted, stating he wanted him to have the fullest of experiences. And though he had weakly protested, he had surrendered moments after, despite how much he probably stood out. People would stare at him, but it was only to compliment how beautiful he appeared. Compliments were one matter, but there were those few lecherous glances that made him shiver and tighten his hold on the royal’s hand.

The blaring music made it difficult for them to communicate, so they opted for the squeezing of hands as a code. Which was probably why he kept feeling his fingers being squished over the past five minutes. Akashi was trying to gain his attention, so he quickly turned to the side to encounter the hooded form.

“Where do you wish to go, Kouki?” he spoke in his ear once they were in somewhat of a clearing.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kouki returned, “Can we just walk through, if that’s okay?”

Akashi nodded, the thick material rising a bit to reveal a small smile, but concealing every other feature. He knew it was for a vital purpose, but Kouki was mourning the fact he couldn’t see his vivid eyes. Though he was sure they probably matched the smile on his face, hopefully glowing as much as he felt.

They passed by a row of stands, Kouki observing the wares of each and every one. It was all so wonderful, and he couldn’t have been more grateful that he was here, now, and with someone whom he adored.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he had been able to be out and about without being afraid? He couldn’t touch on a particular occasion, as he was certain it was ages ago, so distant that it was impossible to remember.

But why was he thinking about that now?

Seijuro then stopped abruptly before tugging him toward one of the stands. Befuddled, he tried to peer over the many others blocking the path, but it was futile. So, hands still linked even though one of them had gone another direction Kouki waited, waited until Akashi was back at his side to figure out why the other had chosen this place as their first stop.

Something was then placed delicately atop him. Kouki froze in place, feeling the softness of entwined petals decorating his head.

“It isn’t nearly as lovely as the ones you make.” Seijuro adjusted the flower crown until it was lying at an angle. “But I think it suits you well.”

Kouki flushed at the praise. “T-thank you, but you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to,” was the simple reply, and then there was no more discussion.

Continuing to shuffle through the streets, Kouki glanced at the pavement beneath them. Right now, he wanted to be the one in the royal’s disguise, for surely his face was bright red. Thank the stars that it was nightfall, but the many lanterns that were used to illuminate their path, probably reflected off his scarlet complexion as well.

Akashi constantly managed to sway him with the smallest of gestures.

It was the rushing of footsteps that next ensnared his thoughts. Looking ahead he saw two men chasing one another, one noticeably vexed. Not sure what to do, Kouki thought of which direction to turn, not wanting to get caught in the quarrel. But before he could decide, he was pulled to the side, easily pressed against the emperor and into safety.

“We must be careful out here,” he muttered, “There are far too many cretins who don’t pay attention to who or what is before them.”

Kouki chose to remain silent, instead honing in on how close they stood. Even through the cloak that shielded Akashi’s identity from all, he could detect a warmth radiating from within. Inwardly cursing, Kouki could feel himself begin to shiver in irritation as he attempted to regain his composure.

“Kouki.” By the tone, Akashi must have noticed something was amiss. “You’re shivering. Are you cold?”

He shook his head quietly, earning him an annoyed sigh.

“Those idiots probably startled you.”

The royal’s voice then died down, Akashi searching around until he caught sight of something. Easing Kouki into a vacant spot away from anyone else, he issued instructions.

“Wait here for a second. I will be back in a moment.”

Once more, he was left to ponder.

The village itself was huge, so did that mean the event extended throughout the entire area? If so, how would they be able to see each attraction? It was already late in the evening, and they had yet to really venture into it. Maybe they would only be able to see a few sights, and then would have to return home? The thought was heartbreaking, but Kouki was forever grateful to get to see what he was allowed to.

He couldn’t be selfish. Akashi was breaking laws to be out here with him, so why should he have sole control over their trip?

The crooning of his name was what urged him back to reality. Turning his head, Kouki smacked into something solid, but not roughly enough to cause an impact. Yet, something sticky was now upon his cheek, and it magnified his confusion. Quickly wiping it off, only to have it glue to his fingers, Kouki revolved to see some sort of apple being held before him.

“An apple?” he questioned awkwardly, “But it doesn’t look like you can bite it. It looks really hard to.”

Akashi laughed. “You don’t bite into it yet. You need to get rid of the outer coating first.”  
  
To demonstrate, he licked at the candied shell, causing the masqueraded boy’s cheeks to flush. Once Akashi had finished, he held the treat up to Kouki’s mouth, offering him his own taste. Shyly, his tongue poked out, sampling the sweetness and allowing the flavor to linger on his tongue.

“Tasty, yes?”  
  
Kouki hummed in agreement. “How… how did you know about that?” He was beginning to feel dumb for even asking with how Akashi was reflecting back at him. “I mean... have you been to this festival before?”

“Not entirely. Mother used to like going to the village, and one time she brought back sweets. They weren’t from this exact festival, but every now and then, there are smaller gatherings. Such as sales for the fall, but nothing like this.” Akashi paused as another smile molded on his lips. “I only came to town when I snuck out to be with you. You were the only one I did that with.”  
  
Kouki nodded, reaching for another taste, but was interjected by something much softer than the hardened caramel. He froze, nearly tumbling backward when the royal’s lips caressed his own. But it only lasted for a second. Akashi was then retreating, separating their connection, while keeping their foreheads pressed close.

“I see. The flavor _is_ more divine this way.”

Heat flooded his system. He rapidly avoided their linked gazes and stared at the ground, trying not to get lost in the inviting aura surrounding them. Akashi’s eyes were still concealed by his hood, but Kouki suspected those amused and devilish eyes were positively glittering now.

Seijuro knew every damn button to push, every tactic that reduced him to a flustering mess.

Temporarily discarding his embarrassment, he fluctuated to his previous dilemma. Kouki became quiet as he soaked in the excess of places they had yet to indulge in. He could sense the royal's concern washing over him, and shortly after, Akashi linked their hands.

“Say what’s on your mind, Kouki.”  
  
“The festival is really big, and there’s probably a lot to see…” Akashi nodded, encouraging him to continue. “… But, um… it’s really late… I wouldn’t want...”

“There’s nothing to worry about. If you want to see everything, that’s exactly what we are going to do.”  
  
About to protest, Kouki was prevented by the royal tugging on his hand. He followed where Akashi was pointing, eyes widening at the array of lanterns soaring across the darkened skies. He watched for a moment in awe, as more and more began to crowd the sky and created a luminous and beautiful exhibit for the entire town.

“…Now, shall we?”

He nodded, allowing Seijuro to guide them down the path, his excitement only doubling with each successive stride.

* * *

At the sound of footsteps, Reo’s head rose, luring him from his brief snooze. He had been standing there for what seemed like hours, patiently awaiting the return of his superior. Only he hadn't counted on leaning on the thick pillars for such an extended period. The shrouded form was all he needed to charge from his post and rush toward the iron gates.

“Sei-chan! Do you know how late it is?” Appalled by the lack of a response, Reo hurried after the royal who’d just brushed past him, expelling a huff. “Sei-chan!”

Akashi had reappeared well beyond the hour Reo had expected, and frankly well beyond the hour he’d hoped for. The head chamberlain had little downtime as it was, and desired nothing more than his well-earned rest at the end of a night.

Now it was creeping closer to the wee hours, and he still couldn’t swan off to sleep. Not when his liege had only just decided to grace him with his renewed presence.

Akashi was carrying his lover in his arms, Kouki's face turned into his shoulder as he peacefully slumbered. All of Kouki’s energy seemed to have been zapped by the festival’s proceedings, and given how long they’d wandered amok, Mibuchi wasn’t surprised. He dearly hoped the younger had enjoyed the outing, but it posed a problem in several corners.

“Please lower your voice, Reo. I can hear you perfectly well. And yes, I apologize for our lateness. There were many things that Kouki wished to look at and experience for himself.”

“The council came asking after you. They were very displeased that they couldn’t get in touch with you directly,” he informed, inwardly recalling the sickening reassurances he’d had to ply the buzzards with to make them crawl back to where they came from. “A few declared they’d wait for your arrival.”

His mismatched eyes momentarily flickered with annoyance. “Then I must ask you a large favor. If you can possibly extend that for a while, I would be eternally grateful. I won’t ask for long, just some more time before I have to deal with them would be appreciated. If they aren’t made aware of my return then it should be feasible.”

The chamberlain’s brow quirked at the request, fingers anxiously fluttering at his sides. “That won’t be easy,” he mournfully replied.

Akashi pondered the notion for a brief pause, before unloosing a crooked smile.

“Tell them that anyone who opposes me will be reduced to nothing. If they desire to keep the standing at court they currently hold, they will be patient.”

Turning, Seijuro disregarded the sigh that trailed behind him, carrying his sleeping paramour the rest of the way to his chambers.

Careful not to jostle him any, he settled Kouki into the massive bed, skillfully planting him between the various layers of blankets. There wasn’t much he could do as far as changing his clothes, but a reminder nudged at him, prompting Seijuro to remove the false tresses crowning the boy’s head. Kouki found them itchy when he slept with them on; that much comfort he could assure by freeing him of that.

Once satisfied, he perched himself on the mattress beside the slumbering form, recording each rise and fall of his lover’s chest.

Tired as he indubitably was, Seijuro was proud he’d been able to give Kouki the evening outside he’d longed for, exploring the festival together. Watching the other’s eyes sparkle when he first realized Akashi was going to attend, heartened him. And each time Kouki had tugged on his hand to show him something the event held, that heady feeling of content only magnified.

As he gazed at the dozing form, Akashi’s thoughts became a whirlwind. He was elated to know Kouki had been able to experience tonight’s festival rather than remain isolated in his room. But how were the impending days going to fair? He knew very well he couldn’t be absent every night to keep the other entertained or throw it all on Reo. That much had been obvious when he’d spotted how weary his chamberlain was, nor was it humane to do.

But at the same time, his heart ached in knowing his treasured one’s spirits were dampened, that Kouki wasn’t getting everything he deserved by being trapped in one location.

And if that was the case, how was he going to maintain the arrangement each and every day without upsetting the council when he ran off or stressing out his chamberlain?

Come to think of it, he still had to devise what he was going to tell Kuroko when he arrived, supposedly to collect Kouki back into his grasp. The emperor snorted at that; he would let wolves tear him apart before he released him into the other man’s arms. He harbored no ill against Kuroko, but if the duke’s intention was to indeed carry Kouki off, then he had no choice but to intervene.

Kuroko had cared for him when he couldn’t, had given him a place and a chance at a finer life, but that was all said and done. He would be the one to take care of Kouki from now on.

His gaze roamed over the elegant, feminine attire before shifting to the false mane that lay a few paces away. Diverting from that, he studied the made-up face, the slender structure, and the painted lips. Everything that concealed that Kouki was indeed a male. Everything that shielded him from others discovering the truth, him among them.

Akashi frowned. It didn’t matter how close they were, how much more intimate they became each passing day. Kouki still insisted on sheltering the origin of his past, and refused to reveal the reason for his disguise.

And yet, Kuroko knew why.

Tamping down on his unease, Akashi leaned in to ghost a kiss against the other’s forehead, his fingers slipping upward to comb through the mussed chestnut locks. He finally had his heart’s greatest desire, his beloved jewel, and he was the highest name in the land. Absolutely nothing, not even fate itself would prevent him from holding onto Kouki forevermore.

Gingerly he continued, pressing his lips against each of his lover’s shuttered eyelids. His attentions caused the drowsing bundle to twitch, Kouki slowly coming to, urged forth from his rest by the tender motions.

“Akashi-san?” he murmured.

Before the royal could respond however, the one below him eyes widened, realizing the position they were locked in, Akashi hovering over top of him in the succor of his bed. Kouki then glanced at him directly, seemingly waiting.

Seijuro met him a breath later, colliding their mouths slow yet steadily. Several more kisses followed, the royal pulling back only a hair’s width in between each. The moment was leisurely and comforting, lulling him into an impassioned state. With each successive touch, Akashi’s ardor flourished, and he fought the urge to dive in completely.

He couldn’t have sensed the turmoil playing out inside the one he was embracing, Kouki’s thoughts developing almost as seamlessly as their intimacy. Guilt racked him, his heart betraying him with every action he permitted to occur. Kouki couldn’t help that this was what his truest self desired above anything else, but he knew that it couldn’t last. He was only making it more difficult on himself when the time came to part.

Akashi’s mouth lowered to attend to the slope of his jaw, pressing feather-light kisses back to where his ear lay. The movements were only making his head spin faster, caught between delight and distraction. When the emperor nipped at his lobe, he let out a faint whine, the heat rising in his face.

“Do you want me to stop?” Seijuro whispered, tone crackling with barely controlled enthusiasm.

The wispiness of his voice set Furihata’s heart aflutter. His gaze became hooded, thick lashes brushing the royal’s silky skin when he leaned in. Against his better judgement, given he knew this entanglement would encourage his flourishing desire, but Kouki was powerless in his arms. It hadn’t even been a day since he was last surrounded by Seijuro’s warmth, and now that he was, he had no intention of unraveling himself from it. The absolute opposite of what his original plan had consisted of.

Heart once more dominating over his prime motive, Kouki shook his head slowly, granting the other permission. Another kiss was dropped along his jawline before Seijuro leaned forward to brush his lips against his ear.

“I won’t go as far as before.” The royal’s voice bled with pure regret. “I have limited time, and this is something I never want to rush.”

Their lips reunited, Kouki awed by how docile the other’s motions were with how titillated he was. Gliding his hands from his shoulders, Akashi worked down his sides, igniting the fires within him with each successive touch, and came to rest on his waist. Yet his kisses remained patient and tender, fingers smoothing the fabric around his middle before clamping around it. Ever so slowly he disconnected their mouths, elevating himself to stare down into the cloudy eyes beneath.

“I just want to feel you, Kouki,” he breathed, hand raising to cup the other’s chin. “To be as close to you as I possibly can.”

Kouki’s eyes watered, his view of the emperor growing blurrier. Words faded in his throat, yearning to break free and admit to Seijuro that his feelings were reciprocated, but it was futile. Frozen in place, he looped his arms around the other’s neck, pulling him as close to him as possible without displacing Seijuro from his original position.

His entire plan had failed, but with how hazy he was, locked in the other’s intimate embrace, Kouki’s thoughts circled around to a declaration he’d hardly dared make in his own mind. Squeezing Akashi to him, Kouki felt his eyes beginning to close, the words sailing through his diminishing conscience.

Until he completely surrendered.

 

 

 

 

Trapped within a horrifying delusion, it seemed like hours until he was finally able to break out. Clawing his way free, Kouki awoke with a start, heart pounding fervent enough that he could swear he felt it in his throat. His vision remained sealed, refusing to see if he was still lodged in the nightmare, hoping desperately he’d managed to find an escape route for the time being. His nails gripped at the silken material hovering over him, his senses detecting the comfort and warmth, and slowly easing him into reality.

Feeling the safety encasing him, and feeling it was enough security to open his eyes, Kouki unveiled his gaze. Blearily glancing around, he caught sight of the familiar candles on the wall, two of them lit and casting a shadowy glow over the spacious quarters.

His mind slowly began to decontaminate itself from the dreaded atmosphere he had undergone, trying to comprehend when he had fallen asleep. The last he recalled, he had surrendered to the emperor’s touches and allowed the warmth to lull him, Seijuro’s loving words brushing against his ear and soaring throughout his thoughts.

He reached for the side of the bed Akashi once occupied, gathering the blankets to him and inhaling his scent to ease his frazzled nerves.

If only he could say the dark dreams he had at times were simply that. But each time a piece of his past came back to haunt his nightly wanderings, he’d end up curled in a ball and rocking himself for comfort. Truthfully, he was glad Seijuro wasn’t present. Having to explain to him why he was awoken by Kouki heaving and panting would be the ultimate downfall. Akashi would never discover a shred of his past. He wouldn’t allow that to happen.

Not that he didn’t trust his lover, but in the man’s eyes, Kouki was flawless. A jewel, as he constantly put, and pure as anyone could be.

He wanted to laugh at that assessment. If Akashi knew how tainted he truly was, what he had endured, how many had defiled him… how many he had to touch in return… he never would have given him a second glance.

For he was the complete opposite of what Seijuro was envisioning. Though he had warned him constantly, the emperor refused to listen to those hints, and Kouki knew protesting each time Akashi wanted to get close to him was futile.

Discarding his self-loathing, Kouki fled from the massive bed, hands stuck out in front to guide him through the dimly-lit room. He knew beforehand that Akashi had said he had limited time, so he could only assume the royal had returned to his official duties.

Kouki’s hands eventually located the doors, swinging them open until he spied the thick carpet of the hallway before him.

He traversed the long hallways, carefully hiding behind corners and ensuring the path was clear before he continued. The last person he wanted to run into was Mibuchi as he felt incredibly guilty about being the reason why he had been kept up all night. Reo had to be exhausted, and though he’d never let that be openly known, Kouki couldn’t bear the thought of facing him right now.

Assuming the royal was entrenched in answering numerous queries, Kouki crept down the hall to where the office was. He paused outside, the sounds of voices pricking at his ears, and instantly recognized Seijuro’s. But just as he was about to turn the corner and go in through the doors, two others he didn’t know followed soon after. Curiously he leaned in, assuring he was still hidden but enough to where he would be able to hear the ongoing conversation.

“Seijuro-sama, you cannot flee like this!” Kouki cringed at the tone. “You are well aware of all the duties you have to uphold, and you cannot keep running off whenever you see fit!”

The other elder soon piped in, “You harbor the most important role of all. You cannot—”

Kouki nearly jumped at the next voice he heard, shivering at how low, how cold, and irritated it sounded.

“I’m aware of all of that, as I’ve repeatedly heard you drone on about it. But you are forgetting one other fact. What I say is law. Everything is in my power, so if I must leave these pointless meetings or work you simpletons fail to see through yourselves whenever I wish to, I shall. You may be here to guide me, but I’m no longer the crown prince, but the emperor, and everything is in my hand.”

Heedfully inching closer, the masqueraded boy pressed himself to the wall, listening as Akashi twisted the argument around.

“If I wanted, I could demote you with a single flick of my wrist, and then you would be out of the job. I have no issue assigning others to sit on my council. Ones that won’t badger me whenever I have a personal matter to attend to and cannot be present.”

As Kouki listened, he was aware that Seijuro was the only one speaking, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the two elders’ face looked like. Still, he felt at fault knowing if it hadn’t been for him wanting to go, Akashi wouldn’t have been boxed into this situation. And would probably be getting the rest he needed instead of dealing with council members at after three in the morning.

“I’m aware of my responsibilities.” Seijuro’s tone had wiled down to its most frigid. “But I’m also aware I hold the power to decide how I will utilize my time. What I do aside from what we speak of is none of your business.”

His guilt only broadened as he listened to each and every domineering word. If he wasn’t here, Mibuchi wouldn’t have had to wait those long hours, the council wouldn’t be here this late lecturing Akashi, and Akashi wouldn’t be working this late to begin with. Everything about this situation was all because he wanted to go to the festival.

Consumed by his thoughts, he barely noticed the two elders were delivering their parting words. He quickly ducked around the corner once more, knowing that the exit of the palace was the opposite way, so he would be hidden on this side. Kouki listened as they shuffled down the hall, counting the minutes until he knew it was clear before heading toward the now sealed doors.

The sight of the doors swinging outward caused Akashi to freeze at his desk. Heterochromatic eyes narrowed, nails digging into the wooden surface.

After their heated discussion, those idiots were going to return to continue a conversation he had no interest, or even a shred of patience left for? He had tolerated enough of their foolishness for the night, and quite frankly if he saw them before morning, he was going to demote them without a care in the world.

But when a familiar dark head poked through, Akashi’s annoyance melted into bewildered concern.

“Kouki.” His voice was raw, torn apart from the previous argument. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

The masqueraded form only lowered his gaze, finding the carpeting to be the perfect refuge from staring into the other male’s eyes.

Akashi sighed at the timid reaction and held out his arms.

“Come here,” he coaxed.

A bit reluctant, Furihata moved minimally, his steps creeping forward until he stood before his lover. Unsure of what to do, he released a small yelp when he was lifted and carefully planted on the royal’s lap. His cheeks stirred with an answering blush, his heart once more giving him away when it began to pound approvingly at their closeness. But Akashi failed to notice the noise, his eyes studying the one perched upon him.

“Forgot something, didn’t you?” Akashi hummed in amusement.

Now he was the one confused. Kouki cocked his head to the side as though hoping for a clue, but it quickly dawned on him when he realized he wasn’t seeing the chestnut curtain each time he moved. He gasped, his hands groping the top of his head as though the false mane would somehow appear. He must have forgotten to place it back on in his rush to find Akashi after he escaped from the hellish sleep he had been captured by.

Seijuro chuckled lightly, giving Kouki a chance to observe his features. How worn down he seemed, probably the worst he had seen him as of far, even compared to the morning before his coronation. Guilt once more racked as him, and his lips began to twitch, spouting words before he had a chance to amend them.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

The sudden apology made quick work of the other man’s laughter.

“For what?”

Kouki lowered his head. “I-if we hadn’t gone to the festival, you wouldn’t have been up this late. You would be sleeping, and not be up now doing all this. It’s—”

His eyes widened when a finger rested on his lips, instantly ceasing his prattling. Akashi smiled crookedly, causing his pulse to accelerate even more vibrantly. Nimble digits threaded through his tousled locks soon after.

“I wanted to go, Kouki. That was my choice, and no one else’s. I was fully aware of the delay it would cause, but I still wanted to go through with it, so stop apologizing for something that was never your fault to begin with.”

He moved to protest, but the royal shook his head.

Frowning, Kouki knew it was pointless to voice his concerns, and instead chose to accept it. His gaze descended, words becoming trapped in his throat as they struggled to surface, but a hand caressing his cheek, deft fingertips mapping the soft skin, was what caused him to surrender entirely.

Curling happily into Seijuro’s embrace, he propped his head on his shoulder, allowing his inner musings to once more dominate him. Try as he wished, Kouki knew Akashi would deny any assertion that he was at fault. He couldn’t argue with him because he knew Akashi’s main goal was to pacify him. No matter how much of a weight it put on his already stressed form. There was absolutely no way he could counteract this argument.

Nonetheless, it still brought him back to his previous conclusion. What if he hadn’t come? Akashi wouldn’t be this stressed, Mibuchi would be able to retire at a decent hour, and everything else would be sublime. He was the one in the middle and causing the two to be overworked in catering to him. And even though he knew Akashi would never admit it, Kouki was noticing more and more signs of it each passing day.

Startling him from his haze, Akashi’s hands ran down his back, the royal whispering soothing words into his ear, and luring him into a tranquil state. These actions only tore at his resolve, trapping him between what he knew needed to be done and what his heart yearned for. Right now his heart was winning this battle. A battle he knew he had to win, or in the end, everything was going to be eons more painful than it should have been.

But each time the other’s loving actions encased him, his thoughts twisted in the opposite direction. How could he part from Seijuro? He couldn’t even stand being apart from him for a day, how would he be able to hold out for forever? Kouki clung to his new lover, hands gripping the elegant crimson and gold fabric as he buried his nose in the soft material. His eyes watered, his heart flooding over any shred of doubt he possessed.

It came down to one final fact.

He couldn’t.

* * *

 

Tap.

Tap _._

Reo peered down at the slumbering figure on the desk, dead to the world. He attempted to gently nudge at him, but was only swatted away before Seijuro shifted his head in another direction. The pose he was in was enough to make him cringe, and he could only think of the massive ache Seijuro would wake to. But each time he tried coaxing him into a suitable position, the emperor reverted to the same stance.

After visiting Furihata and securing him in the gardens, the next room Mibuchi had entered was the office, as he knew the council refused to leave last night. However, he wasn’t expecting to find Akashi out cold and asleep on his desk. He could only wonder what had transpired during the hours the officials were here.

“Sei-chan,” he called, “Sei-chan, you can’t sleep like this.”

The tender persuading slowly lured the drowsing emperor back to reality. Akashi’s head swayed momentarily before it elevated from the hard wood. Tilting back in the plush chair, his eyes inched open, a hand ascending to rub at the fragments of sleep dust. He cringed at the snaps and pops his limbs made as they gradually began to loosen from their contracted state, his neck protesting at the stiffness it was now enduring.

Gentle hands were then moving against the muscles, massaging until he could once more maneuver properly. Breathing a relieved sigh, his vision unveiled entirely to peer over at the concerned chamberlain.

“You always have healing hands when it comes to this,” he chuckled hoarsely.

Reo frowned at the raspy tone. “Have you been here all night, Sei-chan?”

“I haven't.” He cleared his throat to eliminate the rawness. “I must have fallen asleep somewhere along the line after I sent Kouki back to bed, and got caught up fixing all the errors those simpletons made on the documents.”

His companion sighed. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that. They’re the ones who constantly make errors, so they could have at least waited until you were well rested.”

“Honestly, Reo, I have no idea why I even keep them around. All they do is bring misery and botch everything, but I suppose I have no choice.”

Planting his arms on the rests, he leaned back in his chair, eyes sliding closed, one hand pressed to his forehead. The thought of having to deal with the council a few hours from now only made his temples pulse. During their discussion last night, Akashi could only hope some of what he said had penetrated their thick skulls, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

“I know they’re irritating, but you would have to select someone else then if you wanted to replace them. You know what a hassle that would be. I mean, I couldn’t do it. Kota-chan is surely out. Ei-chan is in the kitchen… speaking of which, it might be time to change that. Mayuzumi-kun is…” He noticed he was the only one engaged in the conversation. “Sei-chan?”

The emperor had once more dozed off, the angle of his neck falling into the previous stance that caused him misery. Heaving a small sigh, Reo guided him in another direction, the slight movement jostling him awake.

“Sorry,” Seijuro mumbled, “What were you saying?”

As they continued their discussion, Kouki trekked down the hallway, curious as to why the chamberlain had vanished for so long. Mibuchi said he would only be a few minutes; that he was going to go check on Akashi and figure out where he was.

Kouki frowned. After he had returned to the succor of the emperor’s quarters, he’d reluctantly fallen asleep using the lingering warmth there. When he awoke, Akashi hadn’t been next to him, but that wasn’t unusual. However, he couldn’t recall him ever coming into the room at all during the night or into the morning. The thought that Akashi did nothing but sit in that office all night only made his heart plummet. After all, he was the reason for him being up so late.

“You really need to get proper rest, Sei-chan, and not in here.” Kouki froze in his path, inching closer to the parted doors. “You look terrible.”

Akashi ignored the matter entirely to focus on the one that had been badgering him since last night. He groaned aloud, cracking his once again protesting neck and causing Reo to flinch at the sound.

“What am I going to do about Kouki, Reo?” Mibuchi graced him with perplexed eyes. “I can’t keep him trapped in the palace all the time, but I also can’t keep running away from my duties. Nor can I keep throwing the responsibility on you.”

“I don’t mind, Sei-chan. Really, it’s—”

“No,” the royal interrupted, “It’s not right. I can’t keep burdening you, but at the same time, I don’t know what to do, and I regret feeling this way.”

Guilt instantly captured the masqueraded boy. He was the paramount reason for Akashi’s worry, adding to the numerous stresses he already held. If only he hadn’t asked last night, then maybe….

“Where is he now?” Seijuro continued, pulling him from his cloud of misery.

“In the gardens playing with a cat that wandered through.” Akashi chuckled at that. “He was looking for you, but he said he didn’t want to bother you.”

Kouki rushed away from the doors at the sound of approaching footsteps, but they never entered the hallway.

“Typical of him to say,” Akashi sighed, “I’ll go and visit him.”

But when the echoing of chairs dragging across the floor filtered through his ears, that was all he needed. Without a second glance, Kouki grabbed his skirts and fled down the hallway and back to the gardens as quickly as he could.

“Sei-chan, if I may say something.” Reo’s tone was indecisive. “Isn’t Kuroko coming in a day from now? Maybe he has some ideas about how to keep Kou-chan entertained. Surely he must.”

The emperor flinched at the statement. “Ah, you just reminded me I need to tell Tetsuya I’m keeping him here. I need to figure out how I plan to tell him… I do prefer to tell him what I say is final, but that might seem a bit rude.”

Reo laughed gingerly. “Just a little, but I wouldn’t worry about that now. What you need to do right now is get some sleep. Please.”

“I will,” he vowed, though his next words stated otherwise, “After I see Kouki.”

Not waiting for Reo's rebuttal, he exited the room to head toward the open patio doors. Searching the colorful atmosphere, he spotted Kouki amongst a certain type of blossom, a small white cat next to him. Akashi smiled at the scene, but no sooner had he done so, then did his mien rapidly decline when he realized Kouki’s eyes were tear-laden.

“Kouki.” He rushed to mop at the tracks lining his cheek. “What has upset you?”

To illustrate his point, Akashi surveyed the stalks, assuring that no intruder was amongst them.

The masqueraded boy laughed and rubbed at his swollen eyes. “N-nothing. I think I might be allergic to the cat.”

His answer was accepted, though Seijuro was skeptical about the whole ordeal. Discarding it so as to not startle Kouki, he gathered Kouki into his embrace and held him there for a few moments. In response, Kouki wiggled to peer skywards, relishing in the warmth, but also taking the time to learn how worn down Akashi truly was. How now each time he saw him, he only seemed more depleted.

And now he knew it was all his fault.

“I’m going to rest for a while, Kouki.” Seijuro’s voice nudged through his troubles. “If you need anything, Reo is here.”

Kouki went to protest, but realized it was pointless. It didn’t matter if he voiced his qualms, his worry for Akashi and Mibuchi’s well-being. He knew Akashi would deny it, and put him in front. Just as he always did, had always done. There was no sense in arguing otherwise.

But maybe now he could use the time to think about how he wasn’t going to stress the emperor. At least until Kuroko came to collect him. He hoped by then, he would be settled, and maybe when he left, he could finally let everything go.

* * *

Rain was nothing to be gleeful about. Rain isolated him from the outside, barred him from the gardens where he felt most at peace. The grounds would be soggy, the smooth path slippery, and there would be no sun radiating down to immerse him in light. He would be sheltered, thanks to the canopy Akashi had mounted over the spot he frequently sat, but it wouldn’t be enough to grant him the usual atmosphere. Especially since it would be going against Akashi’s wishes for him to be exposed to the foul weather.

That being said, perhaps it was meant to happen. He needed to stay inside, or else he would never get through all of the packing that he had reluctantly began.

Two days had flown by, time vanishing hopelessly before him. Kuroko would be arriving within a few hours to take him home, back to the manor and miles away from the palace.

And away from….

Rubbing at his misty eyes, Kouki focused on the task at hand. No, he wouldn’t sulk. He would be brave. He would push forward and prohibit himself from wondering about the alternative.

Everything might have seemed doleful and hopeless now, but he was sure. Sure that once they were back at the manor, all would begin to settle once more. After all, that was where his life was, where the horrors from the past had begun to fade, and where he had been granted the chance he had yearned for.

Kuroko had rescued him, Kuroko had sheltered him, and Kuroko had cared for him. Those were the facts, and they were all the evidence he needed to know he had to return with him. Besides, how selfish would he be to make the duke come all the way here after his long journey and find he decided not to go? That would be incredibly disrespectful to Kuroko, and he owed him everything.

Aside from that, Akashi had already arranged for his visit, proving that he was requesting him to leave. Why, he didn’t know, but given how everyone was wrapped around preparing for the man’s arrival, Kouki assumed it was for the best.

The last thing he wanted was to cause Seijuro trouble, if he hadn’t already.

Standing in the massive closet, he slowly freed one of his dresses from its hanger. Kouki froze, studying the solid material. A simple design, but it held so many memories. Some of which were good, but some…

_**“You need to get rid of this dress. It should be burned immediately.”** _

_**Kouki’s eyes widened as he clutched at the fabric.** _

_**“W-what? But this is one of my favorites!”** _

_**“It was touched by a commoner. It needs to go.”** _

_**His nose scrunched in confusion. “But that’s what I am!”** _

_**The prince eyed him skeptically. “You aren’t anymore, and besides, there’s a huge difference between a commoner and filth. And what touched you is filth.”** _

It was the dress he had been wearing the day those two servants lured him into the village with a simple lie. A mere lie that he had believed, and had sent Akashi running through the streets like a maniac to locate him. It had all coincided with the final night Akashi was a prince, for the next morning he would be crowned emperor.

Kouki would have laughed at how Seijuro wanted to incinerate the dress, but he couldn’t find it in him. That night he had only shoveled more stress on the royal, and could have possibly ruined if not the, then one of the most crucial days for him.

Trying not to cringe at that fact, he carefully laid the gown in his large suitcase before returning to loosen another.

Ah, this one. This one was….

_**“And I told you that was impossible. Who gave that to you?”** _

_**Was this the chance he had been waiting for? Even if he had backed down only minutes ago? Could he finally tell Akashi that he—** _

_**“Answer me!”** _

_**“… You did.”** _

_**His voice was almost impossible to detect, but the future ruler heard it as clear as day. Akashi’s expression was one of a mixture, dark brows furrowed and mouth twisted into a horrible frown.** _

_**“Excuse me?”** _

_**Kouki didn’t bother to conceal the droplets churning in his eyes, nor did he halt them from dripping down his cheeks. The memory of the affectionate and compassionate ten-year-old prince as he tied the string around his finger was bittersweet. It was something he could grasp onto as he presently faced the same boy, only ten years older, and more fearsome than he could’ve ever imagined.** _

_**But still, despite how alarmed he may have been, this intimidating man was still that boy.** _

_**“… you did… a really… long… time ago….”** _

His identity had been revealed that night, at the dinner that Mibuchi planned to ease him and make him feel welcomed. Instead, it had concluded in ruins. Seijuro had refused to give him the time of day, and drove him from the dinner with his relentless questions, causing the prince to follow him in a fit of rage. That ire had only enhanced when Akashi noticed the worn thread tied around his finger.

“But it worked out in the end, didn’t it?” Kouki mumbled to himself.

At the time it did. Now? He wasn’t so sure. Back then, all had been different. It was a thrill knowing their feelings were identical, but now Kouki was certain that had morphed into an obstacle. Paying him special attention was a drain on the emperor. His happiness was more important than his well-being, and Kouki couldn't stand seeing the impact their blossoming relationship caused.

Pushing the harrowing thoughts aside, he continued to shuffle through his outfits until he plucked another from the closet. However, it wasn’t among the ones he had brought to the palace, and it was miles away from being plain.

_**“You didn’t have to do this,” he mumbled, “This outfit is really expensive!”** _

_**Akashi’s eyes drooped closed, a small smile gracing his lips as he shook his head, view unveiling a second after.** _

_**“There is no price for a sacred jewel, Kouki. There never was, and never will be. Their beauty is impossible to place a worth on.”** _

_**Furihata cocked his head to the side. This was the second time today he had heard something about a jewel. Why did it keep coming up each time he mentioned the expense of something?** _

_**“A jewel? What does that have to do with this?”** _

_**The amorous look he received only caused his heart to flutter. Akashi stepped another space forward, his hand rising to sweep at a loose chestnut strand. Inching a step back, Kouki swallowed hard, wondering why such a simple question had provoked this kind of reaction.** _

_**“Because that is what you are.” Seijuro’s thumb skidded down his cheek. “It’s sometimes amazing to believe that such rare beauty can exist, but here it is, right in front of me.”** _

_**Kouki was certain he now resembled a sputtering fish out of water. If they didn’t cease this conversation soon, or instantly, it would be impossible for him to go through with attending the ceremony. Not when his insides were this tangled. He had to vanish from Seijuro’s probing gaze, and quick, or else the situation would only progress to the point of no return.** _

_**“You should go… for that… that thing!” He scowled at the amused expression on the prince’s face. “Um… what I mean is… good luck.”** _

Kouki flushed at the memory. He didn’t need to be thinking of that day, and especially the night that followed! Else, he wouldn’t be getting any of his tasks done. But still, one question remained.

This outfit had been made for him, for that occasion, but it wasn’t exactly his. Did it still come with him or was he to leave it here?

Thoughts ensnared, he nearly jumped at the knock on the door. Whispering permission, he waited until the chamberlain had walked through. Maybe he could ask Mibuchi what to do? Surely he would know that answer, as he was sure Akashi would have told him by now.

“Kouki.” That was anything but Reo’s voice, and it sounded extremely bewildered. “What on earth are you doing?”

His fingers quickly were off the elegant dress, placing it back in its rightful spot in the closet. Twisting around, he graced the emperor with an apologetic expression.

“Oh. Um, Kuroko-san is coming soon, so I was just packing. I know I should have done it the other day, but...”

Seijuro appraised him peculiarly, which only made him feel more awkward. Was he upset he hadn’t packed ahead of time and now would have to rush to be done in time for Kuroko’s arrival? He knew he should have finished yesterday, but he had been worried about other things. Or should he say, other people. One in particular.

“Kouki.” Akashi’s tone was wary, as though he didn’t understand the situation. “Tetsuya is coming so that I can arrange how to get the rest of your belongings. That is the only reason I wrote back to him, that, and I figured you would like to say your farewells.”

The announcement caught the masqueraded boy by surprise. He had been erroneous all along? Here he thought Akashi was eager for him to depart, so he could hopefully obtain the rest he required, and yet it was the complete opposite.

“But… I thought….”

Taking a step closer, they stood inches apart. Kouki peered up at the form slightly taller than him, and then back at the carpet beneath them. His staring contest with the floor wasn’t prolonged, for, only seconds after that, soft fingertips were brushing against his skin, sliding down until the slender digits had locked underneath his chin. He was then tilted skyward, his fuddled gaze meeting the mismatched eyes above.

“I apologize,” Akashi sighed, “I should have made myself clearer. I didn’t mean to confuse you.”

Before Kouki could utter a single word, he was tugged into the warm embrace he had become so accustomed to. So attached to. He felt one of Akashi’s hand wrap snugly around his waist while the other wove into the false mane, fingers gliding through it in gentle and comforting strokes.

Angling his head to the side, he slumped forward to press one ear against the royal’s chest. Through the silken of fabrics of gold and crimson, he listened to the soothing rhythm of Akashi’s heart, the sound so placid it was enough to lure him to sleep, just as it always did.

And it would have done so, if he didn’t remember one vital fact.

“Weren’t you supposed to be at a meeting?”

The royal waved it aside. “I dismissed it until later.” His expression flashed into one of displeasure. “I’m sure I’ll be making it up in the evening, but it was for a good reason.”

“Is it because Kuroko-san is coming?”  
  
Akashi dipped his head. “That’s part of it.”  
  
His lips moved to question, but a rambunctious clap of thunder echoed throughout the room. Kouki yelped, scrambling back to his shelter in Akashi’s embrace, and buried his face in the fabric. Clutching at the silken material, he whimpered when another caused the walls to vibrate, and dug himself deeper into the emperor’s robes.

“And that’s the other part,” Seijuro chuckled.  
  
The words wrapped around him like a vice, accelerating his already pounding heart rate. Akashi had cancelled his commitments to assure he wouldn’t fear the storm? Once more, Kouki could feel his eyes watering, but it was for an entirely different purpose. He had cancelled an afternoon with the council, who would probably discuss future plans and important pieces he had no knowledge about, just to be beside him during this?

Kouki fought to speak, but all that came out was a slight choking sound. His emotions were in turmoil, his heart easily declaring victory over any sense of logic he had, if he possessed any right now.

Moments after, he composed himself. He must have appeared so frail, so pathetic looking in this state. Kouki gathered a breath and stepped away from the royal, earning him a questionable glance.  
  
“It’s okay,” he breathed, “I know how to calm myself during it.”

At least he liked to think he did.

Retreating to one of the sofas, he sat down and recovered the book he had been reading that morning from the table. Fingers skimming the pages, he discarded the place he had left off and began to read wherever they had landed. Usually a good story was what eased his nerves when he felt overwhelmed, and within seconds he would forget the element that had caused his anxiety in the first place.

But as another peal echoed within the room, Kouki’s shivering intensified.

It was near impossible to hold the book at that point, his hands quivering with each disruption from the outside. So much for his tactic to calm himself when he couldn’t even stop shaking long enough to grasp onto it.

About to throw in the towel, it was the hands now beside him gently gripping his wrists to steady him that gave him pause. Settling himself on the sofa, Akashi eased next to him, hands grazing his until their warmth encased him.

“May I?”

Unsure of what he was requesting, Kouki nodded. What occurred next caught him unawares, and succeeded in amplifying his pulse even more starkly than it was already beating.

Seijuro pulled the book into his grasp, resting the bottom portion of it against his chest, but held it open wide enough for Kouki to view. He would have thought that the royal was only holding it to cease the wobbling, and therefore he would be able to read without any worries.

But what Akashi did next completely blew him away.

“There were two paths, each leading toward her destination, but Sato was clueless on which to take.”

Akashi’s melodic voice filled the room as he narrated the work of fiction, not once misplacing a word. The sound of the storm still raging outside the windows soon became a vague backdrop, nothing but the royal’s tone seizing each and every fiber of him, pulling him more and more from his bubble of fear and into something much more wondrous.

Inching closer, he rested his head on Seijuro’s shoulder, the emperor’s spare hand circling around to pet his hair.

**_“I wonder what it’s like.”_ **

**_Seijuro diverted his gaze from the open book in his lap to the head nestled against his shoulder. This time for their usual gathering, Kouki had brought along with him a book he had been gifted from one of the villagers and – while blushing profusely at the fact he couldn’t read – asked the prince if he could read it to him. At first, Seijuro was reluctant as the tale happened to be about the life of royalty, but at the tempting vision of those wide, curious eyes, he quickly capitulated._ **

**_“Wonder what what’s like, Kouki?”_ **

**_The other ten-year-old sighed, snuggling into the warmth and comfort of the prince’s silken robes. It just so happened that today the bumbling idiots of the palace had decided on laundering his recent clothing and his plainer ones were absent from his grasp. Thus, the Akashi heir was left wearing one of the ensembles he positively loathed, especially when he was with the other boy. Considering up until then, he had played the role of an ordinary child, he worried about how it might make him seem._ **

**_“To be a princess.”_ **

**_Seijuro scoffed at those words. “Don’t let these books and pictures fool you, Kouki. It’s nothing like what they say in them.”_ **

**_The other boy turned his head to stare at heterochromatic irises now filled with repulsion. “What do you mean? Why do you think that, Akashi-san?”_ **

**_“Forget it,” he muttered, “Just don’t let your mind get twisted by these fairytales. Reality is completely different.”_ **

Only he never imagined – ten years later- that fairy tale would come true. Vivid images painted throughout pages, and words that spoke of only worlds lodged in a fantasy. Never did he believe he would be able to experience that.

Nor had he expected to become that princess.

 

 

 

 

 

“Where’s Kou-chan?”

Peeking over at his superior, who had been engrossed in a novel for the past hour, Reo waited. He didn’t wish to disturb Seijuro, as miraculously he seemed to be relaxed, but Kuroko’s arrival was imminent. Concerned as he was, Reo couldn’t help but wonder if Seijuro had composed a script for how he was going to inform Kuroko that Kouki was staying. Would Kuroko object, would he allow it?

And if he didn’t hand Kouki over, how would Seijuro handle that? Surely he would object, but in what manner?

The royal glanced up from his reading. “Asleep, hopefully. The storm is finally letting up.”

Reo nodded, chewing on his bottom lip as he debated on his next words. Why was he so worried, though? This was Akashi. Of course he had everything organized ahead of time. Still, his curiosity was getting the better of him.

“Do you know what you’re going to tell Kuroko?”

Akashi closed the novel and placed it aside. “I’ve thought about it, yes. It really comes down to a simple point. I’m keeping him here, and that’s all there is to it.”

“But he has no idea you know who _Kiku_ really is,” Mibuchi objected, “Or even about your childhood together. Will you tell him all of that backstory, so he at least understands why?”

“Possibly.” Akashi ghosted his chamberlain a weary look. “Don’t worry your pretty head, Reo. I will take care of it.”

Their discussion ceased by a light knock. Quickly striding toward the doors, Reo granted the servant access, and directed his gaze back to the emperor seated on the plush throne.

“Kuroko-sama has arrived.” She bowed. “His two disciples are awaiting your permission.”  
  
Motionless, Reo turned to the other who was staring at him in return. He hesitated until Akashi nodded silently to him, and then he was once more in motion.

“I’ll go and see if Kiku-san is awake.”  
  
The head chamberlain scurried down the long hallway, pausing outside Kouki’s door. About to raise his hand to knock, he stopped completely when he noticed the door was slightly cracked. And what he saw nearly made his heart flat-line. Wait, didn’t Seijuro confirm with him that he…

Without a second thought, he sprinted back to the throne room where now Kuroko was present, along with his two servants. Bowing his head in greeting, Reo waved a hand to gather Akashi’s attention, not wishing to vocally interrupt the light chat he was engaged in with the noble.  
  
“Your majesty, may I speak with you a moment?”

Excusing himself and apologizing for the interruption, Akashi met the worried raven outside of the chamber. Confused by Reo’s expression, he waited until the other voiced what his concern was.

“Sei-chan.” Reo’s expression didn’t diminish any. “I thought you said Kou-chan knew he was staying.” The royal nodded, brows knitting together as though he wasn’t understanding the issue. “Well, why is he packing? I was about to get him when I saw he was putting his stuff into a bag!”

Frozen in place, Akashi felt his insides plummet. Hadn’t they already discussed this? He was pretty certain Kouki understood he would be living here indefinitely, and he had Kuroko coming only for two specific reasons. And one certainly wasn’t to take him away.  
  
“Stall Tetsuya as long as you can.” His frazzled nerves were entangling with his usual tone. “I will go ahead to Kouki.”

Emptying the rest of his closet, aside from a few articles that weren’t his property, Kouki took a break to swab his misty vision.

As much as he yearned to linger, as much as he yearned to be by Akashi’s side, this world wasn’t for him. From the start, it hadn’t been. What started as a temporary visit where his caretaker could attend to his duties without worrying about him, had turned into something profoundly surprising. Nor did he think he would reunite with his childhood friend… in the strangest of coincidences.

If he chose to stay, his lover would repeatedly dodge the responsibilities of his office, then he would have to spend night after night into early morning making up that lost time and dealing with countless warnings. And while Akashi himself didn’t mind, as he’d stated numerous times, Kouki did.

When it came down to it, he was nothing but a burden, and the worst kind at that.

Might it have been different if Akashi told him from the start he was staying? Kouki didn’t believe so. That would have only cheated fate, for he knew what the outcome was going to be, he knew what he was going to be forced to choose. No matter how much it was breaking his heart, no matter how the voice inside him kept telling him this was wrong, he knew it was the correct way to proceed.

They could never be together. Not when such a heavy barrier was between them.

At least in Kuroko’s care, there wasn’t much stress. If Kuroko cancelled an appointment, it wasn’t a problem. There weren’t millions of people, an entire country, depending on his presence, depending on him to be as alert as possible, and offering his complete competence.

But with Seijuro….

His heart leapt to his throat when the door flew open, catching him off guard.

Akashi stood there, a bewildered yet frightened stance molded into his features. Kouki didn’t know what had caused such an outburst, but when the royal’s eyes shifted to what now sat by his skirts, he tried not to grimace.

“Kouki.” The wavering in his tone made Kouki’s heart clench. “What… why are you doing this? Didn’t we discuss this only an hour ago? That Tetsuya was coming for other reasons… that you are staying here?”

The masqueraded boy hunched over. He couldn’t look him in the eye, for he knew he would pathetically crumble the instant he did. His tone was enough; the confusion, the fear, Kouki could hear it all. But he also knew he couldn’t reveal the truth to why he was choosing to go.

No matter what stories he spun, no matter if he told Seijuro it was largely for his well-being, the royal wouldn’t accept any of them. Putting Kouki ahead of everyone was his top priority, even above the people he ruled over.

And that was something he couldn’t allow to continue.

“I…” Kouki struggled to form the words. “I have to go home. With Kuroko-san.”

He wasn’t sure if he had stopped breathing with how constricted his chest had become. More tears threatened to brew within his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. If he was going to do this, he would have to be strong. He would have to show Akashi it wasn’t affecting him when it was ripping him apart on the inside.

But he couldn’t be who Akashi wanted. He couldn’t be that person, be part of this world. Not when so much was in the way, not when he was so….

“Kouki, this is your home.” Akashi’s demeanor was floundering. “Haven’t we established that by now?”

He refused to lift his head, in fear he would turn and stare into those eyes he loved. Kouki remained silent, listening to how Akashi’s tone was beginning to lose its usual stoic pitch.

“Why are you choosing to go with Tetsuya? After all we’ve been through, you….” He quieted, as though considering his next words. “… Did I do something that made you come to this decision?”

Kouki’s eyes widened, instantly rushing to dismiss that theory. “No, no. Never. You did nothing wrong, Akashi-san. I promise you.”

“Then tell me why.” The royal’s voice was now beginning to tremble, and Kouki resisted the urge to run to him. “I told you how I felt about you, didn’t I? If you didn’t return my affections, you could have told—”

“I do…,” he interjected, “I-I do love you… Sei.”

“Do you?” Akashi’s tone, though soft, was beginning to sound irritated. “If you did, you wouldn’t be going with Tetsuya, so there must be something I’m missing here.”

Kouki was trying to stay levelheaded. “I can’t… explain why. I just have to.”

“What is it that Tetsuya can give you that I can’t? That obviously seems to be the issue here.”

It wasn’t what he could give him, but more what he _had_ given him.

“… My life,” he whispered, only enhancing the royal’s discombobulation, “Kuroko-san gave me it back a long time ago.”

Akashi’s posture was stiff, as though the response had shocked him to the core. Were those the wrong words to say? Had he revealed too much when he didn't mean to? Because now Kouki was certain it was going to invite another round of questions, questions that weren't going to get full and truthful disclosures.

“You’ve been hiding so much from me, Kouki. So much it’s killing me. I thought that I…” He closed his eyes momentarily to inhale. “I thought I was the person you told all your fears to, who you leaned on when you were sad. Who you came to when your mother was….” Akashi swallowed thickly, the passing of his own mother invading his thoughts. “Am I not that person anymore, Kouki? You refuse to tell me anything about what happened to you when we parted. And it pains me to see that, it pains me to have woken up many times at night, and see you crying in your sleep. How at times you are distant, so forlorn. Why won’t you tell me anything?”

Before Kouki could utter a response, the sound of footsteps soon approached them. Finally elevating his head, he looked past Akashi to see Kuroko standing there with the head chamberlain and Kuroko’s two attendants. He forced himself to shoot the duke a small smile, though inside he was ready to fall to pieces. Desperately he wanted to do was run into Akashi’s embrace and stay there. Stay where there would be no harm, where everything horrible that came to mind was dissipated by his warmth alone.

He wanted so much he couldn’t have. That much he did have, he owed to Kuroko. He owed everything to him, and there would never be a way to repay that. Even if he had explained to him who Akashi truly was, about their childhood, about how they were now….

It wouldn’t have made a difference. Maybe if Akashi didn’t have the role he did, maybe if somehow their destinies were different. Maybe then it could have all worked out, but not now. Not this way. And probably not ever.

“Kiku-san.” Kuroko’s bright smile; he had nearly forgotten what that looked like. “You are looking well.”

Funny, he wasn’t feeling very well.

“Kuroko-san.” Kouki cringed at how cracked his voice sounded, it having been so long since he used a feminine pitch. “W-welcome back.”

Kouki was on the verge of tears, but for a completely different reason. He was trying his hardest not to stare at the expression on Seijuro’s face, trying hard not to give into what he really desired. Instead he smiled in return, bowing his head in greeting, and stepping away from his travel bags to give Kuroko space to walk between them.

“I want to thank you, Akashi-kun. For taking care of Kiku-san.” Tetsuya inclined his head gracefully. “I am also very sorry to hear about your father.”

Akashi hesitantly turned to face the person he was now contemplating as his rival. His mismatched eyes had regained their cold and composed nature, even if underneath they were churning with a wellspring of emotions.

“Tetsuya, I—”

He cut off midway when he noticed the expression on Kouki’s face. His lover... ex lover? was practically pleading with him not to say anything. And as much as he burned to, as much as he wanted to tell Kuroko he knew the truth. That Kouki had been a part of his life since he was young, that he was basically his life now… he couldn’t disrespect what Kouki wanted.

“It was no bother. She was no trouble at all.”

Kuroko shook his head. “I am forever grateful for this, Akashi-kun. I know it must have been difficult with you now having to take your father’s place.”

He then walked over to where the masqueraded form was standing, gently taking his hand and squeezing it lightly. Kouki would have flushed at the action, if it wasn’t for the one standing across from them, and if looks could kill, they both would be stone dead right then and there.

It was a relief when Kuroko reached down to grab one of the travel bags, calling out to his two comrades. Within seconds Kagami and Aomine were collecting the rest of Kouki’s belongings, and carting them outside.

Kuroko offered the royal and Kouki another pleasant expression.

“I will let you say your proper goodbyes, Kiku-san, and wait for you out front.” He brushed past the emperor before turning to speak a final time. “Again, I cannot thank you enough, Akashi-kun.”

The room then dwindled down to two occupants, Akashi shortly slamming the door closed, not bothering to care how loud it was. Kouki flinched at the vibration, quickly scrambling until he was standing rigid, his heart pounding at what the impending situation would bring.

“So,” Seijuro’s tone was low, the lowest he had ever heard it. “You are leaving me… and without a clear reason.”

“I have to. You don’t under—”

“You keep repeating your words,” he hissed, “But you are making absolutely no sense.”

Silence dawned between them. Kouki could feel the queasiness bubbling in his gut, his heart clenching so narrowly it was painful to just breathe. Slowly he moved his lips to retort, but the words remained trapped within his vocal cords. And they weren’t escaping anytime soon.

There was so much he wanted to let Akashi in on. What had happened after they parted, who he had become, _why_ he had become that way. That he’d distracted himself with thoughts of him every night when he was in the presence of others he didn’t want, as they ran their filthy hands all over him. That he’d shut his eyes to close off the scenes before him, instead focusing on the pleasant memories he held so dearly of their childhood bond.

Yet before he could surrender, Akashi was suddenly speaking, and his tone was anything but the loving and patient one he had grown to adore.

“If that is what you wish.” He stalked over to the door and jerked it open. “Then go. I won’t stop you if that’s what you truly want.”

Kouki stared back at him, hazel eyes stinging and the tears now beginning to shimmer through. He momentarily choked, his legs jellied and refusing to move from the spot. He was pretty sure his heart was the one in control now, and even though it couldn’t deliver what it wanted through his voice, it wasn’t permitting him action anytime soon.

“You want to leave, don’t you?” The royal gestured his hand toward the hallway. “Go.”

Repressing the nausea, and willing his body to move, Kouki reluctantly departed. He passed the royal who was firmly stationed at the open portal, waiting until he had fled entirely. Was Akashi going to say anything else, or was this it? Would they part on these horrible terms, after everything they had been through? After how strong they had built their bond, apparently this was how it was concluding.

But as he initiated the journey down the hallway, Seijuro’s voice pierced his ears one last time.

“I love you, Kouki.” The words washed over him like a frozen rain. “I know that doesn’t mean anything to you right now, but I want you to know that.”

Kouki restrained himself from circling back, for he knew what he would encounter, and surely he couldn’t leave then. Instead he opted to nodding shamefully, his skirts brushing the elegant carpet as he put distance between them in his flight. He had to get to where Kuroko was waiting, waiting to take him…

…Home.

“I love you too, Sei,” he admitted to himself, “I’m sorry for this… I really am… If only things were different… If only….”

As he scampered more and more out of view, Reo, who had been standing off to the side all along, rushed toward his superior. Had he really just witnessed what he thought he did? Surely there had to be some kind of mistake! Akashi would never allow him to leave when their feelings were so potent.

“Sei-chan! Why are you letting him go?! I thought… I thought!”

The emperor remained stationed at the ajar door, staring at the path where Furihata once was. If a similar level of pain had ever plagued him, it was only one other time. When he had lost his mother, and that had been eased by the companionship of a young commoner who had shown him what life really was like. That boy had then been snatched away from him, to miraculously return many years later. And now that boy was leaving him behind again, reopening the wound he had thought he long since sealed.

“That’s what he wanted.” Akashi’s tone was murky, but Reo could detect the despair within. “So who am I to deny his wishes?”

“… But this.…” Reo was having a difficult time reconciling what he’d witnessed. “You went through so… you… You two... it can’t be over, can it?”

Akashi watched until the vantage before him began to grow blurry. Closing his eyes as wetness began to prick at them, he thumbed at the corners, eliminating any evidence of his misery. It was a moment or two before he shifted around to encounter the troubled chamberlain who was staring at him with heart-rending concern.

“No, Reo.”

He peered down at the thread tied loosely around his finger and plucked at the worn material, holding it up to eye level.

“This is far from over.”


	10. Chapter 10

Kouki gazed out the carriage window and watched the scenery flash by. Villagers were shuffling along the paths, wrapping up their errands for the day, and then after, they would most likely be heading for home. The sun was still hanging mid-sky, but soon it would set and bring forth nightfall. Shadows would then cover this area that was so vividly lit, and in doing so, unleash all that he feared.

Next to him, Kuroko was reading a few documents quietly, though Kouki could feel his eyes land on him every few seconds. It was probably a natural response, as he had been silent since the ride began. And with the two servants finally dozing across from them, all chatting and bickering had ceased, and the carriage had grown peaceful.

But it wasn’t stopping the ringing throughout his head.

Reflecting on prior events, Kouki had to repress his tears at how he had simply got up and left without any clear explanation, the blatant confusion in Akashi’s eyes, the despair laced within his voice. The way he had pleaded for him to stay.

Had that really all occurred? Had he really, only hours ago, left Akashi? After everything they had been through?

Kouki discarded his incredulous thoughts.

There had been no choice in the matter. As much as he desired to stay with Akashi, there were far too many obstacles preventing that from being possible. For one, he was forever indebted to Kuroko. That was something that would never change. And even if Kuroko was aware who Akashi was to him, staying would have posed a massive dilemma for the emperor.

That theory had been proven when Akashi had been berated by the council. Time and time again he had disobeyed them, just like in the argument Kouki had overheard the night he and Akashi returned from the festival. Oh, how he wanted to ignore it, forget it all existed, but there wasn’t a way to avoid it. Their worlds were too different… had been from the start, unbeknownst to Kouki, and would continue to diverge.

It was never going to change.

Under no circumstances, despite their profound feelings for one another, could they fit together.

And if they had somehow got past that enormous hurdle, what of his sordid younger years? He had kept those completely concealed from Akashi, and he had no intention in revealing what had happened back then.

The thought of Akashi discovering what he truly had gone through… the things he was forced to do. He would think he was absolutely vile, would cast him aside as many had done when they were through with him. Someone who was royalty shouldn’t have to cater to someone who had been living on the streets most of their life, shouldn’t have to treat them so delicately as though they were something precious. It was absurd.

Kouki couldn’t help these thoughts… it was what he was taught when he had been….

But brushing that part of his life aside… maybe if things weren’t the way that they were. Maybe if Akashi _really_ had been the boy he first met, who didn’t hide his true identity so well… if he was really on the same level as Kouki himself. It might have worked, but despite all of that, at the time, Kouki had made a friend. Someone who understood him, someone who he could relate to.

And seven-eight years later, had fallen in love with that friend. This powerful, unrelenting, and fearful man who could crush anyone with his words alone. Who could have anything he desired. Like a beautiful, enchanting princess who would become the empress later on, who could give Akashi the future he deserved. And yet, he chose him, a commoner, one who had been used and violated more times than he wished to remember.

He needed someone he didn’t have a constant eye on every second of the day. Someone who knew how to hold their head up high and wasn’t fearful to what was outside the palace walls.

That someone wasn’t him.

No, he belonged in a completely different future. He still would have been part of a horrific world if Kuroko had never come along and rescued him.

And for that, he would be forever thankful, but even in Kuroko’s surroundings, he still felt out of place. He had grown accustomed to it and accepted it, yes, to be treated so delicately, with such care after being treated as though he was waste sitting on the street, ready to be shipped to the next one who would need him. But that didn’t mean that it felt right. Nothing about how his life currently did.

He had obtained such kindness, had been surrounded by it each day. First by Kuroko, who took pity on him and brought him into his home. And then by his once close childhood friend who turned out to be the most powerful man in the country. Most people could only dream of that. Having two respected and well known men by their side.

Returning his gaze to the passing scenery, he realized they were only halfway there. Halfway, and he already wanted to turn back. Go back to the palace so he could run into Akashi’s arms. To feel his embrace, and sob for forgiveness and promise he would never part from him.

But he couldn’t.

As much as he yearned to be surrounded by that warmth again, it could never be. He would never see Akashi again, never indulge in his nostalgic scent, or see the way his eyes would glow in the dim candle light, the way his cold tone would drop down to a soft spoken level whenever he spoke to only him. All these traits that only he experienced, that were the complete opposite of a merciless ruler.

Kouki sighed.

Here he was, making himself more miserable. There wasn’t anything that could ease what was already done. Pushing the thoughts away, he rested his chin on his folded arms, staring at the passing buildings. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Between barely sleeping the night before and now his emotions winding him down, he felt as though he could sleep forever, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to.

Not without….

No, no, no. He had to stop this. He couldn’t go on living the remainder of his life this way. Kouki was going to have to learn to be on his own again, to sleep without someone beside him, without having someone being right there when he awoke from a nightmare. Most people were this way, weren’t they? Then he could be as well. He didn’t need someone to monitor his every step.

Kouki tried not to laugh at that notion. Who was he trying to fool? It was what had landed him in this situation in the first place. He had only pulled himself in deeper by allowing his heart to guide him and by choosing to capture what he had yearned after for so long, what he thought he had once lost.

He could almost hear Akashi’s voice as he read from one of the old novels to calm him. Could almost envision the exact way his lips moved and paused with each paragraph, could feel his large hands resting on his false tresses and then cautiously threading through the silky stands.

And then the stream of recollections switched to something fairly new, something that only made the force against his heart tighten.

 _“I love you, Kouki,”_ Akashi’s rich, crestfallen voice echoed throughout his memory, _“I know that doesn’t mean anything to you right now, but I just want you to know that."_

Kouki closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool window, trying to restrain the tears.

“But it does,” he whispered into the glass plane, “If only you knew that it means everything….”

* * *

A hand was on his shoulder. Fingers were gripping him gently for a second or two, and then he was being shaken gently. Blearily, Kouki’s eyes slid open to discover a cool sensation against his cheek. His lips moved slightly, and he could detect the dryness, the usual makeup he had applied beginning to flake. He frowned, wondering what had disturbed him, until there was another gentle tap against his back.

And then someone was softly calling out to him.

“Se…” he began to murmur. His eyes snapped open at the difference in tones. “Oh, Kuroko-san.”

Kuroko’s expression was one of concern. “I’m sorry-” He paused to look behind him to see if the two servants were still asleep. “.. Furihata-kun. I didn’t mean to wake you, but you were sleeping in a position that must have hurt.”

His pulse began to slowly ease. Kuroko hadn’t noticed his slipup, and Kouki could feel the nerves in his stomach diminish. How could he forget where he was, and so quickly? He was well aware of what his last thoughts were before he left the waking world, but he didn’t think it would travel back with him from his restless dreams.

“Thank you, Kuroko-san.” He yawned, sleep sand still lingering. “Are we almost… home?”

“There is still a bit to go, but it should be soon.” It was then Kuroko noticed how antsy the masqueraded boy appeared. “Is there something wrong, Furihata-kun?”

He jolted at the question. “A-ah… I’m just overwhelmed.”

“I understand.” Tetsuya’s eyes lowered in guilt. “I know it has been exhausting for you.”

Now _that_ was worth a laugh. A low, sarcastic one filtered through his lips. _Exhausting_. He didn’t even know half of it. The back and forth of traveling was a meager burden compared to the turmoil bubbling inside him. Mere hours ago, Kouki was almost certain the remaining fragments of his life had crumbled, and he had witnessed the destruction in Akashi's eyes. It had been one of the most daunting sights he had ever seen, and it would be forever etched in his memory.

He didn’t want that to be the last vision he had of Akashi. Memories were supposed to be something to hold close to get you through the tough times, the happier moments in life that pulled you from the dark corners of your mind. Not of the one you cherished more than anything falling to pieces right before you.

And the cause of it all was words you had uttered.

“How was it with Akashi-kun?” Somewhere along the line, Kuroko had become a mind reader. “Did he treat you well?”

“Yes,” he answered as quickly as possible, “He treated me very nicely.”

He was desperately hoping this wouldn’t be an extended topic. Kuroko was in every right to ask about his time away, but he didn’t know the damage it would cause. Kouki was already battling the urge to curl up and unleash the floods of emotions, and pressing the issue wasn’t lifting that strain any.

“I’m glad.”

Kouki only nodded.

“I will write him when we are home, and thank him again.”

His eyes began to sting, and Kouki quickly clamped them shut. But it didn’t prevent a few of the tears from escaping. The dam he was preventing from bursting now had a crack in it. He lifted his sleeve to wipe at the corners of his eyes, unaware to the black smudge that now stained the elegant fabric.

“Furihata-kun?”

“S-sorry,” he sniffled, “I’m just, I…”

Tetsuya frowned and fished a handkerchief from his pocket. Carefully he blotted the dark marks that were now streaming down the other’s cheeks, and mopped at the moist edges of his eyes. When he was done, he folded up the soiled cloth and tossed it one of the bags next to the slumbering servants.

“You don’t have to worry.” He squeezed the masqueraded boy’s hand. “We will not be leaving the manor anymore.”

Kouki smiled faintly, despite how much his heart was protesting. His stomach was performing a series of flip flops, creating a nauseating sensation, and it certainly wasn’t from the long ride. Not leaving the manor surely sealed his fate with Akashi, and confirmed this was all truly over.

“I don’t mind leaving,” he whispered to himself, but it had been heard by other ears.

This earned him a look of surprise.

He flushed at the stare. “Y-you see… I went out with Mibuchi-san for a few errands or just to look around.” Kouki made sure to leave out the festival and his night with Akashi. “As long as someone is by my side, I-I think I’ll be okay.”

Kuroko nodded. “I am glad to hear that. We can go places, when we return. If you want.”

Quietly agreeing, Kouki was hoping this was the conclusion to this discussion. He didn’t want to speak of the trip anymore, of Akashi, or anything relating to the sort. It was only enhancing his sorrow, and he was frantically trying to comb his mind for another topic. As long as it wasn’t about his time away or anything close to it, then it would suit him just fine.

It was then when a sudden realization dawned on him.

“I hope they’re okay,” he found himself saying.

Tetsuya cocked his head to the side. “Is what okay, Furihata-kun?”

“My flowers.”

While it was a topic changer, it was also the truth. Ever since they had left the manor, Kouki had wondered if his blossoms would remain in their full glory, that he feared he’d return to discover they had withered. After countless hours and hours a day of caring for them, he wanted to preserve them as long as possible. They had strived for years now, and he wished to continue with that for as long as their life cycle would allow him to.

Kuroko chuckled softly. “I wouldn’t worry. They were left in good hands. I’m sure they are-”

His words ceased when a low murmur came from behind him. Passing a glance, Kuroko wanted to roll his eyes at Aomine who was now draped across the other servant, drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. He switched his gaze back to Kouki, who was eyeing the duo suspiciously.

“They will sleep the rest of the ride. They sleep through everything,” he sighed, a bit annoyed. Relief passed through his eyes when Furihata cracked a smile. “You should as well. You must be tired.”

He shook his head. “I think I’m going to read for a bit.” Kouki peered at the bag across from them. “Can you please hand me one, Kuroko-san?”

Kuroko nodded and then began to rummage through the bag before settling on one. Glancing at the cover for a brief moment, he then handed the novel to the masqueraded form. He watched as Kouki’s fingers skimmed the lettering of the title, delighted when the other’s confusion morphed into a combination of surprise and elation.

“Oh,” he gasped.

“You wanted that one, did you not?”

“Yes, I had forgotten all about it.” The corners of Kouki’s lips twitched into a smile. “Thank you, Kuroko-san!”

Eager to indulge in the plot, he was instantly on the first page. Another world, another time, out of reality. Kouki was hoping the imaginary world would transport his mind to another place, to take it away from what it was currently mourning over. To a place where no misery existed, no confusion.

And no heartache.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Welcome home, Kuroko-sama. Kiku-sama.”

Two women of the manor stood nearby, assisting Kagami and Aomine in unloading the carriage. They were precisely how Kouki remembered them before they had departed. Especially the shorter of the two, who was the one constantly back and forth in his rooms. In a way, it was a relief to see her. She wasn’t nosy like the ones in the palace, and didn’t barge in or pester him if he needed assistance. Not like his first day there when they insisted on prepping him for his bath instead of allowing him to be alone.

And there he went going on about it again.

After Kuroko had stepped from the carriage, he held out his hand, and Kouki slowly grasped it. Why did he seem so reluctant? He wanted to be back here, didn’t he? Back home where he felt the most at ease, the place where his horrible past had been washed away and he was given a new chance at life. He should have been thrilled to see those gates, to see the servants he had practically grown up with from his teenage years to a young adult, to be back in a peaceful environment.

Then why did he seem so hesitant?

“Kiku-san.” Kuroko’s monotonous tone whisked into his current troubles. “Please go to your room and rest. I will have your things sent up.”

He would have protested otherwise, but he knew it was pointless. Kuroko would insist, especially with how emotionally drained Kouki had been during the entire ride. Rest truly was needed, and would allow some time for level-headedness to return to him. Slowly nodding, he followed the other servants up the stairs and toward the entrance.

Venturing through the hallway, Kouki was greeted by the warm colors of the manor. It was a great distinction compared to the crimson, black and gold he had become so accustomed to. But he had seen these tones countless times, and they never failed to soothe him. This was the place where he usually felt at ease, where his life had completely turned around. This had become his home, his sanctuary, two foreign words he had never known, and Kouki knew he would eventually settle in once again.

His room was exactly how he had left it. Tidy, but still a few items were on his bed and scattered across his vanity. Kouki could remember his nerves the morning they departed. How hesitant he had been to leave the manor, how he wanted to reject the offer and somehow convince Kuroko to stay closer to home. He had been so terrified then, to travel outside the walls and not have Kuroko by his side the entire time. What was he going to do, he had thought the morning they were preparing to leave, without him there to guide him through the world?

And now he had him again, but he had lost…

Kouki expelled the thought, choosing to focus on unpacking and returning his belongings to the proper locations. He needed to wait for his luggage to do so, but perhaps for the time being, he could straighten up the other loose items. Maybe he would check to see if his closet didn’t have any dangling clothing that he might have smacked into when he was gathering what he needed that morning.

There was soon a knock on his door, and Kouki rushed to let the visitor in. Kagami came through carrying his luggage and placed it next to the closet, assuring that nothing had fallen from the bags from his trip up. Once done, he stood to face the masqueraded boy watching him intently.

“Uh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Do you need any help with… anything?”

Kouki shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

A quick nod from the servant, and he was then granted solitude once again.

Unzipping one bag, Kouki sorted through numerous articles before carefully removing one of the dresses. He stared at it for a moment, recognizing it as the one he had worn the night the servants dragged him to the market, the one Akashi commanded that he burn, but he had objected. Kouki would have laughed at the emperor’s reaction, but picturing Akashi was only causing his heart to ache more than it already was.

One after one, he hung up each dress until he had emptied the first bag. Now all that was left to do was unpack his accessories and the cosmetics he had brought. But first, something else needed to be done.

Toying with a dark ringlet, Kouki walked toward the door to bolt the lock. With it sealed in place, he went to work dissembling his disguise. First the false mane was removed, his fingers combing through it to free it from any knots. Once through, he placed it on the wig stand he kept hidden from the public eye, and focused on the buttons of his dress. He was eager to be free from the heavy material and escape into something much lighter, easier to walk in without the fear of tripping on the drapes of it.

But by eliminating the fabric covering his arms, something cool brushed against him.

It was the bracelet Akashi had gifted him the night Mibuchi and he had returned late from an errand. The errand, unknown to him at the time, to repair the bracelet so it fit Kouki’s wrist without incident. The bracelet that Akashi had placed their connected, worn tassel in to prevent it from getting completely ruined. The tassel that Kouki had kept on his finger since it was tied around it, using it as something to hold onto when he thought he had been abandoned by Akashi years back.

How could he have forgotten about that?

Tears once more pricked at the corners of his eyes, and this time he couldn’t prevent them from escaping. Now in solitude and locked away from the world, he allowed them to fall full force, sobbing out the pent up emotions that had been restrained the whole carriage ride. His hand clutched at the vanity for support, the other cupping over his mouth in an attempt to diminish the noise from other ears. He couldn’t very well stay this way, not when he knew Kuroko would soon be making his rounds to check on him. If he saw him like this, in complete despair, he would have no choice but to confess everything.

Using that as a motive, he shakily inhaled, pacing his breaths, trying not to choke on what seemed liked never ending tears. He hiccupped a few times, the result from gasping too much air, and slowly his usual tempo was restored. Sniffling, Kouki peered at his reflection and cringed at the smudges now trailing down his face, and quickly went to work in erasing them.

It seemed like forever, but finally he composed himself. Focusing once more on the bracelet, he repressed any looming emotions threatening to spill over. This cherished item couldn’t be kept around. Kouki would always treasure it, yes, but if he wore it, not only would it foster suspicions, but he would constantly be reminded of Akashi. And right now, as much as it was ripping him in half to admit it, he knew he had to work his hardest to forget him.

For he’d never see him again.

Refusing to get captured by the misery again, he gently unhooked the expensive trinket. Temporarily detaching himself from his heart, he searched for a protected and concealed location for it. He couldn’t put it with his other jewelry. It could become misplaced, and though each piece of jewelry he owned was beautiful and he adored each one, this piece was special. Not only was it from someone who he thought the world of and they of him in return, but it was something from who Akashi thought the world of as well – his late mother.

He eventually discovered a small box in his closet, where it came from, he was clueless, but it would suit the purpose. Kouki stared at the bracelet for a moment and then laid a kiss on it before he stored it in the back. Maybe when some time passed and he didn’t feel as miserable as he did now, he would take it out and embrace the wonderful memories he had with Akashi. The ones they shared before that fateful day had come.

But for now…

Settling into his evening attire, he returned to the vanity to study his depleted reflection. In all truth with himself, he looked like something the cat dragged in. He was drained emotionally, immensely, but he didn’t wish to sleep. That was where his dreams would haunt him, and right now, tolerating reality was the better of the choice. Still, he needed something to distract himself or his mind would rove right back to where he had just drove it away from.

Maybe he’d go to his garden since he had yet to visit it.

It was the knock on his door that had him scrambling for the main part of his disguise. Throwing the wig on, Kouki straightened it as best as he could, smoothing down the edges to conceal any signs that he indeed wasn’t female. Satisfied, he turned away from the mirror and back to where the guest was awaiting approval for entrance.

“Please come in,” he granted meekly.

His nerves elevated when he saw who it was, but Kouki was foolish to have expected otherwise. Kuroko stepped into the room, still dressed in his attire from this morning, cane absent, and hair disheveled from the light wind.

“How is everything, Furihata-kun?”

“It’s fine,” he answered softly, a bit too quickly for his liking, “I just finished unpacking.”

Kuroko nodded, his sky blues whirling around the room. He took notice of how neat everything already was, not an article of clothing out of place, as if they had never taken a trip in the first place. As expected of the masqueraded boy. He faintly smiled, eyes reverting back to Kouki still in the plush chair, until they landed on a remaining inky blot.

And instantly his smile vanished.

“Are you sure?” He took a step forward until they were inches apart. “It looks as though you have been crying.”

Kouki instantly panicked. “A-ah… I’m just happy to be home. I-it feels like it’s been forever.”

While that was the truth, it was only partial. By the way Kuroko was staring at him, Kouki was sure he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t seem to push the matter. Instead, he produced a box from his pocket and handed it to him. Kouki accepted it, puzzled by the sudden gift, and peered up.

“I was meant to give it to you for the ride home. It was supposed to ease your nerves, but I’m sorry, it slipped my mind.”

The box, with its silver texture, eerily reminded him of the one hidden in the back of his closet. Hesitating momentarily, Kouki opened it to a beautiful silver, wired flower and a gemstone that was a blend of pink, purple and blue in the middle. Attached to it was a matching raindrop that hung only an inch lower and easily completed the piece. His eyes watered once more, but this time in awe and appreciation, that he could never understand why he was gifted so many precious treasures of the world.

“Thank you, Kuroko-san. It’s beautiful. I’ll wear it next time I’m dressed properly.”

Tetsuya nodded. “You must be hungry. Do you want anything brought to you?”

“I am,” he admitted, “B-but I can dress and go to the dining hall.”

“You are already settled for the evening. There is no issue in bringing it to you.”

Kouki raised his hand to say otherwise, but decided there was no use. “That might be better.”

“I will inform Kagami-kun, then.”

He turned on his heel to leave, but instead paused by Kouki’s side. Lingering for a moment or two, he then leaned forward to press a light kiss to the masqueraded boy’s head before stepping back to his former position what had to be a fleeting second later.

“I’m glad to have you home, Furihata-kun.”

Kouki’s cheeks flushed and words were at a loss. He touched the spot where lips had graced him with such softness, and slowly allowed a birth of a smile to twitch onto his lips.

“I’m glad to be, Kuroko-san.”

And in the distance, Kouki was sure he heard something crack, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t know what it was. Gods, it was painful, but he knew there was no choice.

He had to let Akashi go.

* * *

 

The first night had been the toughest.

Despite how comfortable his bedding was, Kouki had done nothing but toss and turn throughout the night. Something was severely lacking, and though he had a hunch to what it was, there was nothing he could do to alleviate that. Losing the battle, he would wander the dimly lit hallways, searching for anything that would lull him to sleep. Halfway down the path, he would find himself waiting for Mibuchi around the corner, expecting to see him conducting his early morning rounds. But he never came. It would take him a moment to realize that he was never going to. Mibuchi wasn’t going to be there to lead him to the emperor’s room without anyone taking notice, to settle any lingering anxiety he might have had. There would be no Akashi at the other end of this hallway.

There never was going to be.

He had bumped into Kagami, who of course was up for his usual late night snack, and he had been the one to escort him to his room. But then he had been back to square one. Sleep was impossible at that point, and Kouki found himself staying up for a good portion of the night.

The second night had been a bit better, but not by much. He could say it was because he had spent the day in the garden with Kuroko, enjoying the pleasant weather. That had played a large role in tiring him, but he had woken hours later into the night. This time it had been Kuroko to catch him wandering. Kouki could only assume Kagami had informed the duke of what occurred the other night, and now he was well aware of the situation.

“What is it that’s troubling you, Furihata-kun?” he had asked.

He had tried to ignore the concern in those light eyes.

“I guess… I’m not used to the atmosphere yet.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. He had become so accustomed to the palace’s layout, to be able to visit certain rooms when he couldn’t sleep, to be wrapped in Akashi’s warm… Kouki shook his head to discard that last.

Kuroko had been nothing short of understanding.

“Is there anything I can do to make you comfortable?”

How was he supposed to answer that? Kouki knew how his heart would respond, what would bring him complete comfort, but it was far from his reach, would always be. Instead he opted for shaking his head and saying he needed to get used to it. That he was certain that, within a few days, he would eventually settle back in.

Hopefully.

On the third night, he was slowly becoming used to his room again. But sleep was still a nuisance and rather difficult. He had woken up a great deal of times, searching his room for some supply of heat. The thick blanket draped around him and the fireplace nearby had provided some comfort. Even if it was false warmth and not the genuine kind he was yearning for, he had hoped it would be enough to lure him to sleep for a few hours.

Kouki had been halfway asleep when he realized it wasn’t fulfilling its purpose. He needed something to hold onto as the warmth lulled him to sleep.

That had been the first and only night he had brought out Akashi’s bracelet.

 

 

 

 

A month had elapsed since they had been home, and the weather was starting to shift. The mild temperatures were beginning to abate, and the air was gaining a crisp feel to it. Soon, his many flowers would go into hibernation and sleep for the upcoming months, as they did each year. He would no longer have to stand outside to assure they were getting the proper sunlight and nutrients, could no longer visit to admire their beauty.

It saddened Kouki to know that.

He passed through the balcony doors after being out there for hours, and was surprised to find Kuroko staring behind him. The duke was dressed in one of his regal ensembles, and Kouki’s heart began to drum at the thought. They weren’t somehow leaving the manor again, were they? Had Kuroko somehow been recently informed of another affair that would take place miles and miles away? As much as he was hoping, Kouki knew it would be the worst decision that could happen right now. Not after…

“Fall is coming,” Kuroko commented, curbing the whirlpool that was his mind, “The village is going to be busy for the season.”

Kouki nodded in return.

“They have something happening today,” Kuroko continued, “I thought perhaps you might want to go.”

Kouki had to contain his elation. They had only been in the court yards of the manor since then. Touring the village had been the last thing on his mind, and Kouki wasn’t exactly sure if he was ready to encounter it again. He had Kuroko by his side, yes, and the people there were a bit friendlier than the ones in other places, but there would always be that nagging fear in the back of his mind.

But right now, a visit there sounded delightful. Especially if there was going to be a festival of some sort for the season. If it was anything like the one he and… the one that he had gone to while at the palace, he knew he would enjoy it immensely.

“I’d love to, Kuroko-san.” He glanced down at his current attire. “B-but I think I might need to change first.”

Kuroko nodded. “I’ll return in ten minutes, then. If you need more time, please inform me.”

The door closed softly behind, and Kouki was left staring at his reflection. A slight glimmer caught his eye, bouncing off the mirror. His hands sort for his neck, the sunlight gleaming off the gemstone of the piece Kuroko had gifted him weeks back. It had become one of his favorites, especially when Kouki had discovered the stone changed color depending on the way of the sun’s reflections. All in all, it matched practically everything he wore, and it was difficult for him to change it to another.

Thinking about it made him ponder how Akashi would react in knowing that. Kouki could easily recall the time when he’d seen the trinkets Kuroko had bestowed him with, how his affectionate expression twisted into a sour one. No, Akashi certainly wouldn’t be a fan of this newest gift.

Face morphing into a grimace, Kouki sighed. He couldn’t help wondering how Akashi was fairing.

Hopefully he wasn’t being stubborn and driving Mibuchi up the walls. With any luck, he was actually acting like the emperor he was, and wasn’t blowing off every duty he had on his plate.

More than anything else, though, Kouki was curious if Akashi was somehow missing him as much as he was him.

It wouldn’t feel fair otherwise.

* * *

“This is highly unacceptable.”

Mibuchi massaged his temples, trying to soothe the tendrils of his growing migraine. How many more times was this old fool going to rave about this? He had been sitting here for over ten minutes, repeating the same answer, listening to the same indignant bellowing, and nothing was resolving. The man was truly as thickheaded as Seijuro had warned him.

“I’m sorry, but the emperor is not available. He hasn’t been well for days, and no one can see him.” He heaved a sigh, irritation blatant in the noise. “I’ve told you repeatedly that I’ve been asked to take care of anything that needs to be done instantly.”

His sophisticated form aside, Reo was extremely distressed about the whole plight. Seijuro had been in his room for days now, his mood not one to be provoked, and the chamberlain couldn’t figure out why. He had been fine when Furihata departed… not precisely fine, but nowhere how he was now. The emperor had adapted to a numbing façade, choosing not to speak of the circumstances, and resumed his role as the one who ruled the country.

Everything had been stabilized for weeks after, Seijuro never once mentioning the name of the one who had twisted his world upside down. But now, he was acting as though Furihata had recently left, when it had already been a month. And Reo didn’t understand why he was behaving this way.

“Unacceptable, Mibuchi.” The council member was still rambling. “I’ll have you know I can demote you to nothing.”

About to respond to the ludicrous bluff, Reo’s focus was on the doors when they abruptly slammed open. Akashi stood there, thoroughly exhausted and completely disheveled. The absolute opposite of his usual flawless appearance. His gaze was instantly on the council member, mismatched eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

“Get out,” he hissed.

The chamberlain’s eyes widened at the icy, extremely raw tone of his superior. Akashi sounded as though he was at the end of his rope, and though Reo had seen him upset countless times before, this was on a whole new level. His gaze shifted to where the council member stood unmoving, ready to expel probably some more nonsense.

But Akashi was one step ahead.

“Do not make me repeat myself.” Somehow, his tone was colder, practically glacial. “Only I am allowed to make choices with what you have foolishly threatened Reo with, and you should be extremely grateful that I don’t replace you and the others right this second. Now leave.”

Then he was gone, the crimson and gold robes trailing behind as he made exit. Reo spared one last glance at the unmoving council member, and then he was rushing after his superior. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned, downright worried, for he had never seen Akashi sound… or look the way he did. Not even before he was crowned emperor and his father was on his deathbed.

“Sei-chan,” he spoke softly, but was easily ignored.

They reached Akashi’s quarters, and Reo instantly followed him inside. Again, he tried to coax the emperor. Implored him, to at least enlighten him, give him some sort of a clue to what could of have been bothering him so suddenly. What could have brought on such a foul mood out of nowhere.

“Isn’t it pathetic.” Reo shivered at the eerily calm, too calm tone. “That someone such as I has been reduced to this because of one person. One that took everything that was mine by saying one word to me.”

 _Oh_ , so it was about who he thought.

“Sei-chan, you—”

“How dare someone belittle me,” he continued icily, “No one should be able to disarm me this way.”

Reo sighed. “I know how you’re feeling, but Kou-chan is special. I don’t think he ever meant to—”

“That was my mistake. In thinking he was different from all the others, but all he did was conceal everything from me.” Akashi paused, fingers skimming the tip of his goblet. “This is why you never give your heart to anyone, Reo. Even if they seem pure and innocent, it’s nothing but an absolute lie. A lie that I foolishly fell for.”

Reo knew that these words were anything but the truth, that the emperor was simply an emotional wreck. He had no idea what he was spewing on about, probably wouldn’t remember any of it the next day. But still, it caused him to cringe internally, to hear Akashi speak these vile words about someone he thought the world of, who he cherished more than anything.

“I know you don’t mean all this, Sei-chan. It’s the alcohol talking. I’m sure Kou-chan is really locked up about a lot, and he’s not doing this on purpose.”

Akashi scoffed. “I don’t wish to discuss this anymore. Leave now so I can be alone, and if anyone else comes and disturbs me, I will send them straight to the dungeons.”

The chamberlain restrained his laugh. He wanted to playfully counteract, to joke to say that just because he had power, didn’t mean he could abuse it that way. But the callous demeanor of Akashi caused him to instantly rethink the matter, and he decided against it.

He chose to obey. After bidding the royal farewell, he headed down the hallway. Lost in thought, he collided with a bulky figure who was exiting from the kitchen. Knowing exactly who it was, he placed his hands on his hips to glare up at the one who had obstructed his path.

“Ei-chan, how many times do I have to tell you to watch where you walk?!”

The dark skinned male scrunched his forehead. “No offense, but how was that my fault? You’re the one who bumped into me.”

Reo could feel the dam holding his frustration beginning to crack. He was more irritable than usual, and he was taking it out on the wrong people. He could help it though. Akashi behaving this way was enough, but Akashi refusing to take on his role and leaving him to deal with the relentlessly bickering council was too much.

“Sorry. I’m just…” Reo leaned heavily against the wall. “I’m at a loss of what to do.”

The cook joined him, dark eyes staring down at the fallen and dejected form of his lover. He offered his shoulder in support, but Reo just pushed him gently away. As much as he wanted the comfort, he was far too irritated to give in to anything heartwarming at the moment.

“It’s been a month and nothing has gotten any better.” The desperation rang out in his voice. “What if Kou-chan never comes back? How will we deal with this?”

Nebuya placed a friendly hand on his arm. “Don’t worry so much. I’m sure better days are ahead. It’s bad now, but it’s gonna get better.”

He tried not to scoff at that. Leave it to his at times dimwitted lover to assume such. What better days? If anything, it would be the complete opposite, and he would be stuck with dealing with a dejected Akashi until he finally overcame everything. And with how he spent the last eight years searching for the boy, there was not a chance in hell this was going to happen.

Still, it was nice to hear those words, no matter how much of the truth they lacked.

“I hope so, Ei-chan.” He sighed, leaning his head against the bulkier form. “I really hope so.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those who have asked about Kouki’s past, that will not be revealed fully until later on, but there have been hints in flashbacks and dialogues, so it might be easy to piece together.There is slight discussion about it in here, and hints in a few scenes, including seeing some of it. Please be warned, if you haven’t figured it out already, that it is dark and can be triggering, even though a lot isn’t explained here. If this bothers you, skip the beginning of scene four and the entire of five.
> 
> Be ready for a series of time skips between this chapter and the next.

“Oi, Tetsu! You got a letter!”

Aomine entered the gardens, ignoring the glare he received from his superior, and approached the leaf-covered terrace.

His dark gaze shifted from the annoyed expression to the girl a few paces away. As usual, she was sorting through her many flowers, a sadness coursing through her eyes and a frown sketched on her face. Aomine didn’t see a point in becoming upset over something simple as a dumb flower, but he had to admit, she did look pretty cute. But he also knew if he pulled one sudden wrong move that Kuroko would kill him.

Not to mention Kagami.

Lost in a world of his own, Kouki continued to inspect the withering blossoms. Soon they would be no more, not until the next spring dawned. At least he had a plant or two inside the manor that he could care for when the blustery and cool days came, but it wasn’t the same as lounging in the gardens and being surrounded by a diverse bouquet of fragrances.

It wasn’t until Kuroko excused himself that he bounced back to reality.

Glancing up, Kouki watched as Kuroko took a parchment from the waiting servant’s hands.

Honestly, it wasn’t of much interest to him. Kuroko received countless letters throughout the week from clients and from those he met in gatherings. Practically every day, in fact. Though, most of the time they arrived in a certain fashion, usually dropped off in some sort of box outside the manor where one would go to retrieve it. Receiving it this way meant it came from someone of regal status.

And when it was untied, that familiar crest was all that was needed for Kouki to realize who it stemmed from.

Rocking on his heels, he watched as Kuroko skimmed the print. He wanted so desperately to read it for himself, and a mere glimpse of Akashi’s flawless penmanship only enhanced that yearning.

But he knew it was none of his business, and that it was for Kuroko’s eyes only. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Akashi could have written. After all, there was no need now that the arrangement was through and they had returned, was there?

Kouki knew Seijuro wouldn’t expose anything that transpired between them. Though his emotions were spiraling out of control and on the edge when the decision was made, he had silently abided Kouki’s wishes as they parted. But there was still that slim chance. The slim chance that he might have complied then and there, but he could inform Kuroko some other way, hidden in the shadows, and where Kouki would have no knowledge of anything.

He _had_ to find out what that letter said.

Kuroko rolled up the parchment and tucked it into one of his pockets. Unfazed by the contents, he turned to Kouki, offering him a small smile, and the masqueraded boy held his breath. He could only hope that Kuroko’s telepathy was currently active, at least to some extent.

Or, he could keep staring at him, and maybe he’d get the hint.

To Kouki’s delight, he did. “There is no need for worry. Akashi-kun was replying to the one I sent when we returned home.”

The letter had been sent over a month ago, so long, that Kouki had forgotten about it. He had only responded now? Perhaps the mail had been delayed, or maybe he didn’t feel the need to because of….

Kouki shook that thought away.

“He says thank you for writing, and said it wasn’t a problem that you stayed, that he’s doing well and hopes the same of you in return, and he apologized for taking so long to write back.”

It was terse, too bland for Kouki’s liking, but really, what was he expecting? That Akashi would say he wanted him back? But it was still too short for a response, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Maybe he was being hounded by the council, maybe he was busy, or maybe he didn’t wish to have any contact with anyone associated with him. And Kuroko was top on that list. But Akashi was very well-mannered, so it would be unusual for him not to respond, even if it was only a brief message.

Yet, short as it was, it was some connection to Akashi, the only door that he could use to keep that connection alive. How else would Kouki find out how he was doing? If he was fulfilling his role the way he was meant to? If everything was okay?

He knew Akashi wasn’t going to address any of those exact concerns, but Kouki was kind of hoping he would. Then maybe he wouldn’t feel so anxious all the time.

His silence didn’t go unnoticed.

“Furihata-kun?”

Kouki continued to stare at the scroll, the cogs in his mind slowly turning. What if this was the only opportunity he had? What if he could somehow get Kuroko to write Akashi at least a few times a year… just to have some contact with him? Even if it was from a great distance and was built on a white lie, it would at least settle him down for the time being, and then maybe as time passed, maybe satisfy his interest permanently.

Though he was pretty sure that there was a snowball’s chance in hell of the last condition happening.

“Ah, yeah!” he rushed to diminish the awkward situation, “I’m just glad to know he’s okay with how much work he probably has right now.”

Kuroko’s expression shifted, and Kouki instantly regretted his response.

“Did Akashi-kun have a lot of work when you were there?”

The masqueraded boy restrained his laugh. Maybe the better question would have been if Akashi was able to accomplish any work while he was there.

Kouki had lost track of how many times Mibuchi scolded him about running out on a council meeting, or dragged the reluctant emperor back to his task. Even Kouki himself had to convince Akashi to be productive once or twice. He could scarcely imagine his workload now, and more than half of it was probably the piling up of what he avoided when Kouki was staying there.

Of course he knew the reason for Akashi’s avoidance, but he wasn’t about to admit that.

“Umm, he… he had a lot to do, after the crowning and all.”

That seemed to pique Kuroko’s interest.

He hadn’t heard anything in regards to the coronation, nor had Furihata spoken of it. When he’d first caught wind from sources that Akashi was about to become emperor, he couldn’t imagine how terrified Furihata was with all the disarray and countless people bustling about around him. Kuroko had even thought of ending his mission earlier than expected to retrieve him, but his servants had convinced him otherwise. But now that the topic was open, he found his curiosity resurging.

“Were you present for the ceremony, or did Akashi-kun have you stay in your room and away from it?”

Kouki hesitated.

And then slowly nodded. “I was there for it.” He looked over at Kuroko’s expression. “It wasn’t bad. Mibuchi-san gave me a really pretty dress and then…”

_“If you really wish to grant me luck….” His lips twisted into a sly grin, leaning forward. “You’ll kiss me.”_

“… Walked me to the ceremony.”

_“Or,” Seijuro’s voice pierced through his plight, “You’ll let me kiss you.”_

“It was really crowded there, but Mibuchi-san was with me the whole time, and when he wasn’t, there was always someone who was.” He paused to catch his breath. “…A-after, there was a ball. It was really nice. So many people there… all dressed so lovely.”

 _“During that time, I was forced to dance with people I had no interest in, and not with the one I_ truly _wished to dance with.” He offered one of his tender smiles. “Will you dance with me, Kouki?”_

Kouki swallowed thickly. “The ball continued for most of the night, but a few hours into it…I went to bed.”

_“I haven’t a clue where your heart lies. Whether it’s with me or not… but what I’m asking is, if you would allow me to honor you. Even if it’s only for tonight.”_

He could picture each of those moments as though he was still in them. Could hear every word Akashi spoke, the tone of his voice, the love, the passion, and at times, the concern. Could visualize every expression he’d made, how his eyebrow would twitch when he didn’t care much for a topic, how he would gaze at him with those beautiful mismatched eyes, the ones that were usually so calculating and cool, but had over time become filled with warmth.

Lost in his stupor, Kouki didn’t realize Kuroko was staring at him. The duke then leaned forward, placing a hand to his cheek and grazing it gently. Nearly jumping at the sudden contact, his attention shifted back to Kuroko who was now showing him a worried face. Had he said something he shouldn’t have, did he accidentally mention something else during his reminiscing?

“Furihata-kun… you—”

“Oi, Tetsu!”

Kuroko sighed heavily at the interruption.

“I am going to have to teach Aomine-kun some manners.” He narrowed his eyes at the servant waiting by the entrance. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but it appears company is here already.”

Kouki, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more thankful at the moment for Aomine’s brashness. He was certain if their discussion continued, something would have slipped out, and he couldn’t have that happen. These memories of Akashi had to stop overpowering him, but he knew that was a long way off. After all, it had only been a little over a month. Still, he really did need to learn to control it in the presence of others.

“You can join if you wish, or I’ll have Kagami-kun come and sit out here with you… while I send Aomine-kun on a long errand so we have some peace this afternoon.”

Kouki laughed at the last part. “I’ll be fine, Kuroko-san. You’ll be there, so I won’t need to worry about anything.”

The duke nodded. “As you wish.” He offered a hand to elevate Furihata from his seated position. “Let’s go then, shall we?”

Journeying back toward the inside, Kouki found his focus shifting to the scroll in Kuroko’s pocket.

How was he going to go about this, without exposing the true intentions behind it? He knew he couldn’t just get up and ask Kuroko to write to Akashi. There wasn’t any reason he could devise that would seem remotely normal. It was a risk, and Kuroko was already looking at him strangely from before.

This was going to require some careful planning.

 

* * *

Autumn had come and gone, and the final season had swiftly made its way to their quaint town. The sun was now but a distant memory, any trace of warmth vanishing within the chilled air. Pastel skies had become gray, the first snow fluttering gingerly down from the heavens, and Kouki was yearning to experience the scene. From some place other than around the manor.

Strolling through the powdery streets, he and Kuroko browsed the numerous stands.

Kouki had never seen so many glittering gems at a single table, mostly ones to accommodate the current weather. Solid blues, whites, and silvers, all in their own glory. They weren’t the lively blossoms he adored so much, no, but they were still enchanting in their own way. He could appreciate that while his favorite seasons were currently in their slumbering period.

“Lovely, aren’t they?”

He nearly leapt as one of the shopkeepers came forward, but Kuroko’s grip had tightened and quickly eased him.

Kouki nodded, his eyes settling on a dainty pendant of a silver snowflake. He had never really had much of an interest in anything to do with the sort. But now that he was before it, so close, he couldn’t help but stare at the sparkle it emitted. Even without sunlight there to reflect it, it still glowed so boldly.

Following his gaze, Kuroko couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you like that one, Kiku-san?”

Kouki inched a step back. Had he been that obvious?

“Ah, yes, it’s really pretty.”

The merchant grinned at the compliment. “It would look rather nice on a pretty girl such as you.”

Kuroko frowned. Sales talk, as usual when someone regal browsed the stands. But he did make a fine point. The pendant matched Furihata’s current attire perfectly, and would make a lovely addition to his many others. Something different, with a darker shade to stand out from the numerous lighter gems he had.

The silence between them was becoming awkward, and Kouki found his gaze wandering. He was about to quietly suggest they could move to the next stand, especially with the look the merchant was giving them. But Kuroko had begun to converse with the merchant, and Kouki decided it wasn’t his business to interfere.

Instead, his attention shifted to the next stand, not wanting to appear as though he was eavesdropping. Then before he knew it, he had begun to walk on his own, browsing each table he passed.

It wasn’t until he reached the fifth stand, that he realized what he had done.

“No,” he whispered to himself, “No, what have I done?!”

He quickly rushed back, trying to retrace his steps, but the crowds had become difficult to move in. Now panic was beginning to set in, especially when he couldn’t catch a glimpse of that light blue mane where he knew Kuroko had last been. His stomach clenched, and his heart plummeted, his conscious beginning to lecture him for his foolishness.

“Kuroko-san,” he whimpered, “Where are you…”

Moving as quickly as he could through the crowds, Kouki felt his vision beginning to waver. A cool sweat slicked his face despite the blustery weather, and he slowly got lightheaded as he ran, until.

He collided into something firm and soft; a rather busty female.

Kouki instantly scrambled away, his cheeks flaming red when he saw what he had crashed into.

“I-I’m so sorry!”

The girl laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s really crowded around here.”

He partially composed himself to stare over at the large group a few paces away.

“Umm, what’s going on over there?”

The girl shrugged. “Just boys being boys.”

Standing on his tippy toes, Kouki peered over a head of one of the occupants to see some sort of contest. Two guys were involved in some challenge, people cheering them on and waving money while others were throwing insults. Oddly enough, they reminded him of Aomine and Kagami.

…Wait a second.

“You’re new around here, aren’t you?” the girl’s voice broke through his puzzled thoughts, “I would remember such a cute face.”

Kouki’s blush deepened. “This is really my first time coming around here.”

“I thought so!” she giggled, “Are you here with your spoken one?”

His eyes widened. “S-spoken one? Like m-married? I’m not married!”

The girl frowned. “You’re not? You’re not dressed like any of the common folk, so I figured you were spoken for.”

He momentarily hesitated.

“A-ah… I’m… umm… under the care of someone.”

“So am I.” She smiled softly. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but unmarried women who aren’t high up are barely seen around these parts, so that’s why I figured you were.”

He tried not to shudder. Oh, he definitely knew those parts, especially around nightfall. Even if someone was spoken for, he couldn’t imagine them walking these areas after sunset. Just the thought alone of being around the shadowy zones of the village was enough to cause his stomach to turn.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been so rude!” She held out her hand. “I’m Momoi Satsuki.”

Kouki grasped it cautiously. “I’m…” He frowned when he realized he didn’t have a surname. “… I’m…”

“Kiku-san!”

Frozen on spot, Kouki’s heart began to thump. He wildly scanned the area, catching sight of sky-blue head approaching them.

Kuroko breathed a relieved sigh. “Kiku-san, there you are. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m sorry, Kuroko-san.” Though there was guilt in his tone, Kouki couldn’t help but feel some tension melt away. “I’ve been looking for you for a while now. I didn’t mean to get lost.”

The duke nodded. “It’s all right. There’s no need for an apology. All that matters now is that you are safe.”

Momoi looked between the two of them. “You’re with Tetsu-kun?” she nearly squealed, “How lucky you are!”

Eyes shifting from Kuroko to her, Kouki’s expression was a bewildered one. Momoi knew Kuroko? What were the odds of that? Then again, he was well known throughout many towns, so they might have cross paths before. Or maybe he had met her through someone else? Was it before or after he saved him?

Kouki couldn’t help but wonder.

“Hello, Momoi-san,” he greeted politely, “I hope you have been well.”

“I have been! It’s so nice to see you, Tetsu-kun.” She turned back to Kouki. “You’re so lucky to have Tetsu-kun to watch over you. He’s the greatest.”

Kouki concurred, “I know he is.”

“What are you doing around here, Momoi-san? You know Kise-kun will panic if you’re away from the manor for too long.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m actually with Midorin right now. He stopped somewhere back there. Something about how he had to buy a trinket for the stars coming this week.”

Kouki looked over at the duke, hoping for some answer, but Kuroko only heaved a quiet sigh.

“It’s best not to ask.”

Momoi giggled. “Midorin is really into that stuff.”

“Yes,” Kuroko’s tone was flat, “He constantly reminds us that he is.”

Peering over the crowds, she caught sight of a familiar jade head making its way through the numerous people.

“Ah, there he is! We should get back home before Ki-chan worries. He easily does.”

“Yes,” Kuroko muttered, “About everything.”

Momoi giggled. “Let’s meet up again sometime, Kiku-chan, okay?”

“Yes.” Kouki nodded. “I would like that, Momoi-san.”

She gave them both one last grin, and then she was whisking through the crowds. Kouki watched her until the pink bundle was no longer in his view. They had only been within the presence of each other for a few moments, had only met, but Kouki found her company delightful. Something he didn’t believe he’d ever be able to obtain from a complete stranger, especially after knowing them for such a brief period of time.

“Momoi-san needs to be careful.” Kuroko was sighing. “She has a tendency to wander off on her own.”

Careful? She seemed like a girl who could handle herself without an issue.

“How do you know her, Kuroko-san?”

“I met her a few years ago. She is under the care of one of my clients.”

He hesitated on his next inquiry.

“So… then she’s safe? She was dressed nicely so it’s not like…?”

Kuroko smiled softly. “Yes, she’s treated very well.”

A breath of relief was quickly interrupted by the sky now erupting. He had wanted to see the birth of the snowfall, but now it had twisted into a harsh storm. Kuroko glanced up as more flakes fell from the heavens, leaning heavily on his cane as to not slip on the frozen pavement, his other hand fixing the buttons on Kouki’s thick cloak.

“That reminds me.” He began to rummage through one of his pockets. “I have something for you.”

In Kouki’s hands, he placed a small box.

“Huh?” His face registered confusion. “What is this, Kuroko-san?”

“You can open it when we return. It might get lost here.” He squinted against the flakes. “We should get going now. The snow seems to be getting heavier.”

He paused to peer around the filtering out market.

“Have you seen Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun by chance?”

Kouki laughed, and gripped his hand, leading him back to where he had seen the two engaged in yet another challenge. He knew for certain the two servants were in store for another lecture when Kuroko discovered their whereabouts. It wasn’t much of a surprise, as they were always involved in some quarrel with each other. But he was eager to find them and return.

Clutching the box to him protectively, Kouki couldn’t help but smile widely. The weather might have been cold and calculating, but inside his heart, it was warmer than ever.

 

* * *

Kouki sat at the table, tapping a pen against the blank sheet beneath him.

A few weeks back, they had received a response to a second letter Kuroko had sent. It didn’t take much convincing from Kouki, nor did he have to spend a lot of time in debating on what it would say. Kuroko had already taken care of it, saying the polite thing to do was to thank Akashi for his kind words in return, and wrote the letter without any say from Kouki.

But that was where it had ended, and Kouki didn’t intend on it staying that way.

Now he was stumped on what he could use as a ploy to have a third written. Something that wouldn’t draw suspicion, yet get the point across. That would do, but he was absolutely clueless on what it should be in regards to. He needed something, some sort of rumor or bold statement, that Akashi would have to address, but what? What could he possibly conjure out of thin air and use for an excuse?

 _‘Isn’t this the same thing as feeling like a burden?’_ a sudden voice poked through his erratic thoughts.

Kouki shook his head. “No, this is different. I’m not there for Sei to have to keep an eye on me every second. All I’m doing… um… Kuroko-san is doing… is writing him so we can see if he’s okay.”

The voice snorted. _‘That’s a total lie. You know exactly why you’re doing this.’_

He couldn’t deny that. His concern for Akashi’s well-being wasn’t his only intention. That much he _did_ know.

If writing pointless letters, though he wasn’t the one writing and receiving them, to Akashi was a pathetic and small way to soothe himself, even if just a bit, then he would continue to do so. Despite the nagging voice that was telling him otherwise, and what a coward he was, he would push forward.

_‘Why don’t you just tell him?’_

“I can’t do that!”

Tell Kuroko everything? _Everything_? From the absolute start up until he returned to the manor? The duke would convince him to go back to the palace, that he needed to follow his heart, and not worry about anything in the way of how he felt. Sure it would probably eliminate a lot of the tension and quell the tornado inside him, but Kouki had already made his decision.

Besides, apart from feeling like he was a burden… there was also a very high chance Akashi didn’t want to speak to him. Not after all of that. It would be a miracle if he ever glanced his way ever again.

Was he _really_ arguing with himself like this? He truly must have been overcome by the situation.

_‘You’re being stupid. The easiest way would have been to stay there. Your heart is never going to be at ease if you follow this path.’_

Voice of reason it might have been, but it was beginning to sound like a huge pain in the ass.

 _“_ It will,” he whispered, “I know it will.”

A knock disturbed his mental quarrel, and Kouki quickly granted the visitor access.

It wasn’t much of a surprise that Kuroko would be coming along to inform him of guests arriving. He had been holding meetings at the manor due to the poor weather, and the location was the easiest to reach for those who came from different parts of town. Of course, he could simply meet them in their own dwellings, but Kouki was touched to know why Kuroko chose to do it this way.

The clients were pleasant and well behaved, for the most part. There had been one case with some lecherous man who wouldn’t stop staring over at him. He was ejected from the manor after Kuroko had abruptly ended the meeting, and Kouki was absolutely certain they would never be doing business ever again.

“Some have already arrived.” Kouki didn’t have to ask more. “This will be the last for the next couple of weeks. I’m sorry that it’s been so busy here, Furihata-kun.”

Kouki smiled faintly. “Don’t be sorry, Kuroko-san. You have to do this, but I’m glad you’re staying close.”

“I don’t want you to stay in your room.” Tetsuya’s eyebrows lowered. “I promise it won’t be anything like the last time. In fact, Momoi-san will be here since one of my guests is someone she lives with.”

The news surprised him, but he was elated by it. Thrilled was an understatement.Kouki had only met her one time after that first in the market, and though it had only been for a brief moment, Momoi left a good impression. She was such a carefree person to be around, and he was more than happy to have her company. In her, he had someone he could discuss topics he never did with anyone, and he didn’t have to feel humiliated about bringing said ones up, and indulging in anything she had to say in return.

Even if he didn’t exactly have any of her per se, feminine qualities.

“Kuroookooo-cchiiii!”

Caught off guard by a tall blond thrusting Kuroko into his embrace, Kouki quickly inched to the side. He tried not to laugh at the unamused expression on Kuroko’s face, who was trying with all his might to wiggle out of the other’s iron grip. Escaping seemed to be impossible, until Kuroko resorted to the next option, and jabbed his elbow into the blond man’s ribs.

Painfully.

“That is enough, Kise-kun.” He turned his attention from the whimpering blond to the girl beside him. “Hello, Momoi-san. I believe you already know Kiku-san.”

Kouki bowed his head, hands quickly tugging down the edges of his wig. Though he was almost certain it wasn’t going to fall that easily, as it had been through some pretty tough situations and still remained static, but he couldn’t risk it. No one in the room but Kuroko knew of his true nature, and he wasn’t about to announce it anytime soon, or ever, in fact.

Momoi returned the gesture with a wide smile. “It’s so nice to see you again, Kiku-chan! We’re going to have so much fun!”

He returned her smile, though Kouki’s was a bit wobblier. It wasn’t that he was nervous in her presence. No, not at all. Under the flowing and loose skirts and false tresses, he felt weighed down. Especially when he stared at the attire the girl before him was donning. There were no secrets with her, no countless pounds of makeup to conceal her true self, nothing of the sort.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Momoi-san.”

Peering past her, he gazed at the path that led to the hallways. What was he supposed to do now? Invite her to his room, or maybe they could go to the library? Did she even have an interest in books? The same topics he did? Outside wasn’t an option, due to the poor weather, and his flowers were already withering. So he couldn’t show her or talk about those, or anything on the outer grounds of the manor, for that matter.

Kouki didn’t want to seem rude to his guest, but he was clueless on what to do. They were standing before each other in silence, staring with the same smiles they had greeted one another with. His ears listened to the vague conversations of Kuroko and his guests a few paces away in the next room, and Kouki felt his anxiety beginning to surface.

Thankfully, Kuroko came to the rescue… as he always did.

“I have set up and reserved the room next to ours for you two.” He caught Kouki’s eyes. “In case you need anything, we will be right there.”

Momoi beamed. “Thank you, Tetsu-kun!” She reached for the masqueraded boy’s hand. “Come on, Kiku-chan! Let’s go sit and talk!”

“Kiku-san.”

Kouki froze, and turned to him with a puzzled glance.

“Don’t hesitate to interrupt if you need anything, okay?”

Kouki smiled, relieved by the gentle words, and then was dragged into the room by his peppy companion. ****

He could only wonder at what they would discuss, what the topics would be, what they’d do to pass the time. In truth, he had never spent time around a girl… not unless he counted…

Pushing that horrific thought aside, Kouki allowed his mind to go clear, and then followed her toward the sofa.

 

* * *

**Creak.**

Kouki squinted as the door groaned open, the dwindling flame from a dusty lantern slowly floating into the room. He rubbed at his eyes, gaze shifting to the silhouette approaching him. Frozen on the spot, his fingers gripped the edge of his bed, nails digging into the rusted metal as the shadowy figure came closer, and closer.

And closer.

But when the floorboards silenced a few feet away, Kouki was puzzled. That was, until he heard a familiar, and extremely worn down voice.

“Furi.”

Releasing the breath he had been holding, Kouki flopped back down onto the torn mattress. Here he had been expecting… _him_ , but thankfully it turned out to be his good friend. A somewhat hopeful thought flickered through his mind. Perhaps tonight wasn’t going to be as terrible as he had envisioned.

Until he saw the expression on the other teen’s face. Fukuda looked as though he was going to lose his dinner any second.

“He’s asking for you,” His voice was but a whisper. “The guest, too.”

The bile slithered up his throat. “H-he hasn’t gone to sleep yet?” he managed to gasp out.

Fukuda shook his head sadly.

Slowly nodding, Kouki grabbed the small basket to the side. He rose from where he had been sitting, but his legs weren’t having it. The instant he fully stood, they became rubber, sending him crashing to the floor. He heard Fukuda squeak, knowing the loud disturbance could merit a harsh punishment for the both of them, and quickly collected himself.

Kouki didn’t want to put his friend at risk for something he caused.

Courage barely gained, he chanced one last glance at his roommate, but he had already turned away. Kouki frowned, knowing there was no other choice, and then stepped through the doorway, making his way down the dark hallway.

It didn’t matter how many times he had traveled this path, he always became lost. There were no lights, aside from at the end of the hallway, but he supposed it was for the better. Who wanted to be in full view of the horrors they were about to see only a few inches away?

He reached the door he wished he could flee from, his fingers grasping the cold knob. If only there was another door…one that would lead to the freedom he had been yearning for for so long.

If only.

But before he could pull at the door, it flew open, sending him flying back from the force. His eyes focused on the burly figure and what was standing next to it.

And then all he could see was…

Gasping, Kouki’s eyes shot open. He panted harshly, choking on the air his lungs were trying so desperately to gather. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, and he could feel the sob trapped in his throat. Why did he have to keep dreaming about that? It had been years now, but the mark was still there. Rooted in his memory, as were the bruises and scars etched in his skin, and they would probably remain there for the rest of his life.

His throat bubbled, and the sob was released along with a myriad of tears. Kouki clutched at the blankets, rubbing them against his face in the hope that it would be some sort of comfort.

The warmth only lasted a few seconds, and then he felt something pulling them away. His fingers frantically gripped the ends of the covers, trying to prevent whatever was taking away his only comfort. Kouki wanted to shout. Somehow he was still trapped in that terrible world, when he thought he had successfully escaped. And yet, he still continued to tug that blanket back. If they were going to take away his purity, they could at least grant him this.

But then when something much soothing than the blanket began to comb through his dark strands, all ghastly theories died out.

No one in this _place_ ever touched him so gently, had stroked his hair in such a calm manner… had ever even stroked his hair. No one but…

Reluctantly, and maybe a bit too hopeful with how grim the circumstances were, he turned to the side. What he uncovered, produced a fresh set of tears, and he tried his damnedest to restrain them. But it was pointless. Allowing them to flow freely and cloud his vision, he swallowed the lump in his throat, and shakily asked.

“Are… are you really here?”

Akashi cocked his head to the side, impending approval flashing in his mismatched depths.

“Do you wish for me to be?”

Kouki quickly nodded, without a shred of hesitation.

“Y-yes, yes! M-more than anything!”

Akashi smiled wistfully. “Then, I am.”

Unsure on how to act, Kouki chose to stay slightly apart. Despite everything that had occurred, Akashi was here with him, confronting him after he had fled from one of the most daunting nightmares his mind had the displeasure of generating. Kouki thought he would have been distant, thought he’d be greeted by the same aloof tone he heard when they separated. But if anything, Akashi seemed just as hesitant, maybe even a bit somber.

Kouki had a hunch as to why, and it wouldn’t be fair to hide anything. Not anymore. Not when Akashi was right here, not when he had come back to him even after everything, after his own terrible words.

Without a second thought, Kouki launched himself into the emperor’s arms.

“Sei,” he sobbed, “I’m so sorry! There’s so much I want to tell you, but I can’t! You’ll think differently of me… you’ll think I’m disgusting.”

Those same fingers then began threading through his hair again. Kouki continued to weep, hands clenching at Akashi’s elegant robes and nose pressing against his shoulder. He trembled fiercely, his breaths becoming shorter and noisier with each sob that wracked his frail body.

His sudden breakdown didn’t perturb Akashi any, as his long fingers resumed their calming gesture throughout his dark locks. The same delicate strategy he used whenever he was anxious or unhappy about something.

“I could never think that about you, Kouki.” The emperor continued to thread his fingers through his hair. “Haven’t I told you before? Countless times, in fact. A jewel cannot be tainted.”

Kouki rose from his sanctuary. “N-no,” he hiccupped, “Y-you will… I’m so… I…”

He was hushed by a finger against his lips.

“We don’t have to talk about it, Kouki. Not if you don’t want to.”

Kouki shook his head fiercely. “But I want to! I just… I don’t know how to….”

“It’s all right, Kouki. I understand.”

The straightforward response puzzled him. Why was Akashi acting so leisurely? Being so accepting? It wasn’t as though he quarreled with him, no, not at all, but he also wasn’t one to cave so quickly. Something about this whole scenario wasn’t right, and it was only enhancing his uneasiness.

“I never wanted to leave you, Sei,” he continued, hoping for a change in this behavior, “But I don’t know what to do. I just know that I… I really miss you.”

He looked to the emperor for an answer, but Kouki found him completely wordless, which was anything less than how he usually was. Akashi only continued to stare at him with the same wistful expression. This was too odd, extremely odd, completely unsettling, and if he had to say, it was making him rather upset.

Perhaps Akashi didn’t reciprocate his feelings anymore. He wouldn’t be surprised with how abrupt and vague their departure had been. Not that he expected feelings that prolonged for years to die so quickly, but right now, anything was possible. No matter how heartbreaking it might have seemed.

Still, he had to know for sure.

“How come you’re not saying anything?”

Akashi remained motionless, mismatched eyes gaining a bewildered stance.

“It’s because it is you who has control over everything, Kouki,” he declared softly.

Akashi’s words rained down on him, chilling him to the very bone, and causing his heart to plummet. The fingers that were gripping the emperor’s silken attire began to loosen, just as his hold on reality began to crash down and crumble to pieces right before his eyes. And then slowly, he faced Akashi, and almost reluctantly whispered.

“You’re not really here… are you…”

The disbelief had barely finished tumbling from his mouth, and he could already feel the diminishing presence. His hands scrambled for the silky cloth, but there was nothing there. Fresh tears pricked at his eyes, his arms wrapped around his quivering form, and his fingers clenched at the bedsheets in some effort for comfort.

And then all Kouki could do was stare into the voids of the darkness.

 

 

 

Kouki ran as fast as he could down the hallway, pausing every now and then when his heel snagged the carpeting. Servants gazed at him oddly as he continued to rush toward one end of the manor. He knew he appeared a bit peculiar, okay _a lot_ peculiar, but if he didn’t reach Kuroko in time, he wouldn’t be able to sate his mourning heart. Nor calm the turmoil churning restlessly inside him.

 _Somewhat_.

The carrier would be along within the hour, and then any letters and packages wouldn’t be transported for two days later. What he had to say wasn’t anything urgent or needed to be read instantly, but after seeing Akashi in his dream-within-a-dream last night, he needed _some_ kind of contact. Something that wasn’t lodged deep within his fantasies. This was the only way he knew he would be able to obtain it. Despite if it was a vague response that lacked emotion of any kind, and was not even a paragraph in length.

It still came directly from Akashi.

There was a great possibility this would puzzle Kuroko. After all, they had recently received a response to the last letter about a week or so ago, so why would there need to be a reason for another? There didn’t seem to be any purpose to write to the emperor. In other eyes, that was.

He soon found him, in his office, sorting through his file cabinet.

“Another?” Kuroko was frowning at the request. “Are you certain? What is the reason?”

Kouki was quick to respond. “Um, I heard something when we were in the village the other day. Something really concerning, and I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

It was an outright lie, and Kouki was fully aware of that. Nothing had been said. Maybe he was able to drop in on idle chitchat of gossiping girls every now and then, but nothing of concern. Nonetheless, there was no other option but this one. He could only hope Kuroko wouldn’t see right through him, not the way Akashi easily did.

He forced a smile, hoping it was enough to conceal any doubts.

“You don’t have to, Kuroko-san,” he nudged cautiously, “I just wanted to make sure that I…”

That he _what_? Was lying through his teeth to his caretaker? That he was screening that the emperor was more than someone that simply provided hospitality for a week? That he was using a pointless letter as a means to show Akashi he was still there, even if Akashi wouldn’t be replying the way he wished he could?

It really did make Kouki feel ill that it had resorted to this.

“All right, Furihata-kun.” He could hear the skepticism in his tone. “Tell me what you wish to say, and I’ll have it sent today.”

Kuroko continued to stare at the masqueraded form with worry. Last he knew, there was nothing out of sorts with Akashi, so he did know what Furihata was saying wasn’t the case. But then why did he insist on consistently writing to him?

He had a feeling he wasn’t being told the whole story, and that bothered him.

Conquered, Kuroko decided to keep his thoughts to himself. If it appeased Furihata and made him at least a bit happy when he was miserable most of the time, then it was the least he could do.

Still, the whole situation wasn’t settling very well with him, and he couldn’t help but feel this was the _real_ concern.

Not the ruse the masqueraded boy was trying to pass off.

 

* * *

The glow from the manor was soothing, instantly luring him back inside and away from the harsh, frigid breeze.

Kouki shivered as his body adjusted to the difference in temperature, shedding his snow-laden cloak and ridding it of any melted fragments. His hands froze midway, and he quickly glanced at the mirror to assure the wig was properly in place before removing the final item. It wouldn’t have been much of an issue if it were just Kuroko and him, but they were within the company of Kuroko’s two chamberlains.

It was almost humorous to picture on how Aomine would respond if he ever uncovered the truth. Kagami, on the other hand, Kouki was convinced he already knew. Or had some kind of hunch. He wasn’t too sharp when it came to the simple things, but he was nowhere as dimwitted as the other man.

But still, that was really the last thing Kouki wanted. Kagami was friendly… at times… and well-mannered, unlike the other servant, but he wanted to keep the truth between him and Kuroko. Kouki knew the others who were aware, Mibuchi and Akashi, would never utter a word, but he still had to tread carefully. Who knew what would transpire if his identity was somehow revealed, and he wasn’t about to find that out. Not now, not ever.

With a sigh, he pushed aside any more ridiculous thoughts and finished hanging his cloak on the many hooks.

They had returned from a luncheon with Momoi and Kise, and a few other acquaintances Kouki had seen a few times now. It was one of the more enjoyable days Kouki had had in a while. Ever since the night of the festival, that was. Though it was a simple place, the food had been rather delicious, and then they had ventured out into the snow to explore a different part of the town. An area Kouki hadn’t been before, and though he might have been a bit fearful, not once did Kuroko leave his side, nor did he release his grip whenever Kouki found himself clutching Kuroko’s cape.

It was these little steps that were slowly bringing him closer to the world once more.

“What’s with the smile?” Kuroko’s inquiry startled him; he had no idea he had been smiling. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy seeing that expression on you, but you have me curious.”

Kouki laughed shortly. He didn’t wish to voice what his current thoughts were.

“It’s just… I’m glad Momoi-san is living with someone so nice.”

Kuroko tried not to roll his eyes. “Yes, he’s definitely a unique one.”

“He can be pretty dumb,” Aomine chimed in, ignoring the glare, “Kise never knows when to shut up.”

A snort.

“Like you’re any better.” Kuroko frowned as Kagami joined on the banter. “You wouldn’t know common sense if it kicked you in the face, which most of the times, it does.”

Aomine growled. “My fist is about to kick you in your face!”

“Momoi should be thrilled she ended up there instead of here.” Kagami wasn’t letting up. “She’d never be able to deal with you. Then again, she’d probably kick your ass if you dared to hit on her.”

“Why I ou—”

The echoing of Kuroko’s decorative cane vibrated throughout the area when he slammed it against the floor.

“Enough.” His hardened gaze was fixed on the servants. “Aomine-kun, Kagami-kun, this is highly uncalled for. You will apologize to Kiku-san for your behavior.”

Kouki raised a hand. “Ah, it’s really not…”

“Sorry, Kiku. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Aomine muttered, though his didn’t sound as sincere. His attention then quickly shifted back to the redhead. “And where’s my apology, asshole?”

Kuroko sighed as another altercation was at foot. “Both of you, leave.” He gestured toward the hallway.

“You have work to do, anyway. A lot.”

The two bowed, muttering another apology, and then instantly headed down the hallway. Kuroko shook his head as though he couldn’t accept what had just occurred, excusing himself and followed after them, most likely to lecture them on their behavior. But now Kouki was left alone with his thoughts, and he couldn’t help but wonder about what Kagami said.

Although they had conversed a few times now, Kouki didn’t know much about Momoi’s past. What was her life like before recently? She didn’t seem to be the type to end up caught in what he had been involved in, but he couldn’t help but be curious if there were any similar circumstances. She seemed perfectly capable of defending herself, so there was a high possibly she never endured any of that, and he’d be lying if he said thinking so didn’t make him a bit envious.

Especially since he never talked to other girls before. She was the only one thus so far.

“I apologize for that,” Kuroko’s voice yanked him from his thoughts, “That was extremely uncalled for.”

Kouki laughed softly, shrugging the whole incident aside. There were currently more pressing matters at hand, whirling around inside his mind, and refusing to cease their endless roving. If he didn’t relieve himself of them now, he knew they would only flourish and trouble him later on.

“… Kuroko-san?”

The duke nodded to show he was listening.

“Do they…” Kouki hesitated, unsure if this was something he should ask. “… Do they still do that to girls they find who aren’t high up?”

The question caught Kuroko off guard. He hadn’t been expecting that, not when the discussion between them so far had been a light one.

Kuroko could feel his teeth clench behind his closed lips. The lines of his forehead wrinkled, and the grip on his cane tightened. This was not something he wished to discuss, especially when he knew the boy’s past was a ghastly one. Discussing the subject was something he wished to avoid, and if spoken of by mistake, would have to be treaded very slowly, the words chosen cautiously.

Extremely carefully.

“I surely hope not, but I regret to say that there may still be a few places.”

Kouki swallowed thickly. “…What about to boys? Like… with me?”

“Let’s not talk about that, Furihata-kun.”

The abrupt and slightly raw response caused Kouki to whimper and inch a step back. The timid act that reflected shame caused Kuroko to reach a hand forward as an offer of apology. It was reluctantly, yet slowly accepted. Kuroko pulled the sullen boy into his embrace, running his fingers across his arm and up to his shoulder in what he hoped was a calming gesture.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I don’t wish to bring up terrible memories for you.” He paused midway up his shoulder. “Why the sudden interest?”

Kouki’s head lowered. He wasn’t about to voice his thoughts.

Momoi’s past or her life in general wasn’t any of his business, nor anyone else’s. If she wanted to talk of it, that would be her choice but, now that the topic was at large, Kouki was left wondering about a few matters.Even if they caused his anxiety to double and make everything twenty times worse, he wanted to know. Though it was unlikely he would cross paths with the horrible people he’d known, he still had to know. ****

“I was thinking about it.” He could tell Kuroko was frowning once more. “I know I shouldn’t, but how come, Kuroko-san? How come they haven’t all been found? Aren’t there rules to stop this? I know they weren’t enforced back then… but today… shouldn’t they be?”

Kuroko flinched.

Out of the millions of subjects available, he never thought they would be discussing this. Something that Furihata had practically banned from daily conversation, and Kuroko had been hoping, from his mind. But the last was probably a stretch, as such dreaded memories couldn’t just vanish without a trace, and he was sadly certain that was never going to happen to the wounded boy. **.**

“They need to be, yes. Laws haven’t been changed in decades, so those who are involved in these horrible practices are never looked for.”

Kouki shivered, and this time it wasn’t from temperature change.

“… They can be fixed, right?”

Tetsuya nodded. “They can, yes. By one person.”

His mood brightened marginally.

So there was still a small ray of hope that the laws could be altered permanently. Someone out there could make everything that was horrible disappear to where no one else would suffer like him, where they wouldn’t have to endure and hope someone rescued them eventually. No one should ever have to feel the way he did, no matter what type of person they were.

“Who?”

“As of right now, that power belongs to Akashi-kun.”

Kouki was certain his heart ceased in that moment. Somewhere in him, he knew that would be the answer. After all, who other than Akashi held that much control over what happened within the country? But he had tried hard to avoid accepting that. It was almost laughable. To know the one he adored the most, who had already taken away most of his fear and pain, who he was concealing the harsh reality of his past from, had the power to possibly end all of his nightmares.

“W-why…” He had somehow found the ability to speak again. “Why h-hasn’t he?”

Kuroko’s consoling continued. “I don’t believe Akashi-kun is aware of it. Even if he was, he would need proof and investigators to locate them. Then the offenders would be jailed, possibly worse.”

The masqueraded boy became silent.

Of course Akashi wasn’t aware. He had a difficult enough time with the countless meetings he was required to attend, that he was always conjuring up some excuse not to be present at. Being emperor wasn’t a priority on his list. He had barely shown interest in the role other than a few rare moments, so of course something such as important as this would pass right by him. But maybe if Kouki…

No, because that would mean he would have to explain why he cared about seeing it done. He could maybe lie and say it was out of concern for a friend, but Akashi would most likely see right through him. Just as he always did.

His lips twisted, and the words slowly formed in his throat, but before he could breathe them into existence, Kuroko stepped in.

“Furihata-kun.” Kuroko’s voice had altered to an almost pleading one. “Let us not talk about this anymore.”

Kouki hesitated.

Perhaps it wasn’t best to bring it up in the first place, but his curiosity was always there at the gate and ready to provoke the situation more than it should have been. ****

He couldn’t silence the troubling thoughts that ruled his mind and constantly kept him awake at night. But for now, he would do so, until darkness once more covered the land and he was forced to see everything once more, as he always did, behind closed eyelids.

“Okay,” he whispered, earning him another smile.

Then, Kuroko was once more gripping his hand, leading him away from the den.

“Come. Let us get out of this drafty doorway, and go and see what damage Aomine-kun and Kagami-kun have caused.”

 

* * *

Mibuchi stared down at the scroll in his hand, forehead creasing and dark brows threading together. Long fingers skimmed over the ribbon, and then quickly recoiled as though they had touched a most horrifying object. This was quite troublesome, for it wasn’t his decision to read it, but it had come from Kuroko. Though, considering the last two they had received had irked Akashi, he wasn’t sure if presenting it to him was the smartest (or safest) of choices. And yet, he knew he couldn’t very well keep it from him, especially if it was a letter awaiting a reply.

What if it was urgent, and Kuroko was requesting another favor? What if it was for Furihata to stay there for another period? Or, what he was hoping for, that somehow Furihata changed his mind and wanted to come back? All these hopeful possibilities roved his mind, but then there was also the risk that it could impair the situation more than it already was. And then what?

He wasn’t sure if he could endure another anger spike.

Discarding the dubious questions and going against better judgement, he began to untie it. At least if it were to be fortunate news, he’d be able to inform Akashi without any risks other than that he had browsed the letter before him. He could deal with the lecture about snooping later on, especially if it was for a good cause. And if it were to be the opposite…

Reo frowned at what he uncovered.

“I should have known it wouldn’t be anything promising.”

Nor was it anything really of importance. Therefore, couldn’t he sweep it under the rug and not inform Akashi, as though it never existed in the first place? The solution had potential, but then what if Kuroko was indeed waiting for a response? It was only polite to respond after such an amiable letter. Lastly, it was next to impossible to hide anything from Akashi.

He couldn’t tolerate another episode like the time Akashi denied anyone access. The council had repeatedly berated Mibuchi on demotion, and how they were going to report this type of behavior. There really wasn’t much they could do other than ramble on about nonsense, but it was irritating to have to deal with it each and every day. Adding in Akashi’s stubbornness and emotional tangents, he’d had a massive migraine on hand.

Thankfully, the emperor had overcome that and had since returned to his usual duties.

For now.

With a fluttering sigh, he rolled up the scroll and retied the ribbon before he journeyed down the lengthy hallway. Last he knew, Akashi was engaged in a meeting with some other higher up from another portion of the country that had never crossed his path before. And seeing how he had been in it for over an hour, Reo was almost positive he was eager for some sort of interruption.

Reaching the iron doors, he pushed them open with ease, trying not to chuckle at the emperor’s bored expression as the other man continued to speak. He should have known this would be the sight he’d stumble upon. Almost instantly, Akashi’s eyes were on him, quickly rising from his cramped positon and excusing himself before heading toward where he stood.

Once back in the hallway, Akashi was handed the scroll. A single glance at the penmanship was all it took for him to question it.

“Tetsuya again?” His confusion only furthered as he began to read. “What recent troublesome event?”

“I found that odd as well.” Reo shrugged at the notion of being caught; it should have been obvious by now to his superior that he’d read it beforehand. “Maybe it was a misunderstanding?”

Akashi’s confusion was slowly morphing into annoyance.

“In all the years I’ve known him, Tetsuya has never written to me as much as he’s been doing. Kouki is behind this.” The scroll crinkled in his hands from how hard he was clenching it. “I haven’t the faintest idea what game he is playing, but I am done.”

The chamberlain flinched. Maybe he should have discarded it after all.

Now completely irritated, Akashi shoved the letter into Reo’s hands. “If you are to receive others after this, dispose of them. I want nothing to do with this anymore. Whatever game this is, it ends now.”

“Wait! Sei-chan!” But the emperor was already gone through the doors. “Now what am I supposed to do?”

Peering down at the letter in his hands, Reo huffed. Of course he would be stuck in yet another difficult plight. He couldn’t leave Kuroko… or possibly Furihata hanging. They were more than likely awaiting a reply, and he knew it wasn’t going to come from Akashi. Not after that brusque command.

There was only one thing he could do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kouki paced back and forth, skirts dragging against the lush carpeting as he twisted in circles. His behavior was eccentric, and he knew if anyone walked in, they would surely question it. The anxiety was gnawing at him, the butterflies flapping their wings and whisking inside his stomach. He knew he was overacting, but it couldn’t be helped. Not when he had no control over the outcome of the situation.

Truth be told, he was used to Akashi taking weeks to answer, but this delay had over exceeded the usual length. There was the actuality, of course, that he was tied up with the role he had. Despite that being a large cause, he had always responded within a reasonable period. That was what he had done with the last few letters, hadn’t he? So why was this one any different? There hadn’t been much change compared to the others, so was it possible he didn’t feel the need to reply?

“Maybe I’m being selfish.”

Was he? He had already walked out on Akashi without a clear explanation after everything they had been through. And now here he was lying to Kuroko, the person who had taken him into his home as though he belonged, just so he could have some sort of contact with Akashi. How terrible he was being. Expecting more from someone he had abandoned months back, and lying to another.

He didn’t mean to be this way. No, of _course_ not. Kouki would never intentionally harm anyone or bring great sadness to them. That wasn’t who he was, but he was at a loss of what to do and how to silence the turmoil inside him that was beyond overwhelming.

“Kiku-san?” a familiar voice followed the knock on his door, “May I come in?”

Temporarily scrapping his troubles, Kouki unlocked the door and was greeted by the ruffled, sky-blue mane. His eyes went from Kuroko’s calm face to what he was indicating to what was in his hand, and he could feel his heart begin to thump. Could that finally be….

The familiar crest on it confirmed his theory.

But when Kuroko unrolled it, Kouki’s heart sunk, for it wasn’t Akashi’s neat handwriting.

It was Mibuchi’s.

“Mibuchi-san apologizes, but Akashi-kun is too busy to respond.” Kuroko rolled up the letter and offered him a small smile. “I suppose we need to stop writing him, but don’t worry. I’m sure he’s very grateful for your concern.”

He struggled to return Kuroko’s smile, but the raging storm inside him was preventing that. Kouki’s lips quivered, but all that expelled from them was a small sound. Frozen in place, he could feel another piece of his heart chip and smolder into ashes. He should have been accustomed to this by now, but the feeling of losing another part of yourself wasn’t to be discounted.

For weeks, months, his little tactic worked without anyone suspecting a thing. Even if Kuroko might have looked at him a bit oddly a few times, it still had succeeded, and the letters had made their way to Akashi.

But now he had been informed that it needed to cease happening, that Akashi was busy and it was best to leave him be. The sole link he possessed had been severed, and Kouki was once more stuck with dealing with his emotions. Not that this had solved everything… or anything, for that matter, but he at least had some contact with Akashi.

He was back up against the same plight, but only this time, there wasn’t a shred of communication between them. Kouki wasn’t sure if maybe later on they could try again, but now it was too risky, and Kuroko would surely question his desperation on why he wanted to write to the emperor so much.

Kouki could feel the corners of his eyes water, but he quickly pushed the sensation aside.

No, he wasn’t going to let himself be defeated. Somehow, by some miracle of ingenuity, he was going to figure out a new method of initiating contact. Something that would give him another window into what was transpiring on the other side of the country, so far away from where he currently stood.

Risk be damned.

 


	12. Chapter 12

The winter months had been gusty and bitter. Between the accumulation of snowfall and the icy side streets, it made traveling outside hectic. Most of the time, the dangerous conditions kept Kouki sheltered indoors, a fact that irked him. Not that he was typically one to venture out, but lately that had changed. Things in the town changed nearly every day, and he enjoyed visiting there to explore the various wonders that passed through.

As long as he wasn’t alone, of course.

Kuroko had warned him it was far too risky, that he could trip and injure himself or have something fall on him. One of the thick icicles hanging from the rooftops in a prominent example. And Kuroko had justified such concerns by conducting a small test of his own to show him just how severe the weather truly was.

“Why the hell do I have to stand outside, Tetsu? It’s freezing out here!”

The duke stood on the patio. “Stop whining, Aomine-kun. You do not have to go far. A little further into the courtyard to show how deep the snow has become.”

Aomine huffed and trekked out into the snow. He continued on until he began to feel wetness creeping up his leg, and an extremely cold one. Peering down, he noticed the snow was already up to his knees. Annoyed, he kicked some aside and then turned to glance back at his superior.

“Well, shit. I guess it is pretty bad.”

Kuroko hummed, sipping from his mug.

“I sure as hell ain’t staying out here.” Aomine shuffled back to the patio as fast as the snow allowed him. “You’d have to be an idiot to—”

Before he could reach the doors, a loud noise above caused him to pause in his tracks. Peering up at the sky, he shielded his eyes from the bright sun, which soon flashed blinding white. It was then that he learned what that rumble had been.

Sadly, he had acted a tad too late.

Snow came tumbling down from the high rooftop, instantly encasing him in a cloak of white.

Aomine was crushed and pressed into the frozen grounds, barely able to stick his twitching hand out from the mound to show there was still life amongst the avalanche. A few more wiggles, and he had managed to reveal his leg before it flopped back down into the snow.

“I suppose we will be staying in today.” Kuroko took another sip. “Thank you for checking, Aomine-kun.”

The mound rose from the white pile, snow dripping from his dark hair, and ice clinging to his nose. Aomine shook violently, the long-sleeve turtleneck he wore barely a decent source of warmth against the frigid snowbank.

“S-S-Screw you, Tetsu!” he chattered, “I’m never doing this shit again!”

But of course, Kuroko proved him wrong. Each time it snowed, he would make him check, and each time he did, Aomine would lose the war against the snow on the roof. Why he didn’t know to run by then, Kouki didn’t know.

By the fourth day, when he was instructed, Aomine refused to go outside.

 

 

All throughout the winter, they never once heard from Akashi.

At one point, despite Kuroko saying he didn’t want to disturb him, Kouki had convinced him to write another letter. There wasn’t much in it aside from wishing Akashi a good holiday.

That had been the final one, and there had never been a reply. Not even from Mibuchi, which Kouki found extremely unnerving and strange.

He was beginning to realize that maybe Seijuro really was tied up in other affairs. That maybe he was finally fulfilling the role he had been destined for. Kouki could only imagine how much convincing and probing that Mibuchi had to have done to get everything in order. It was almost humorous to envision it, if his emotions weren’t the massive blockage in the way of that image.

But aside from the lack of contact, there was the possibility that Akashi and the others had truly forgotten about him altogether. The thought didn’t sit well with him, but Kouki wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

It might have been for the better. They were living in two different worlds, miles and miles apart. Clearly, they would never cross paths again. That was, unless Kuroko had business there, but he had already informed him this was the only time something like that would occur.

Maybe this was the sign he’d been yearning for. The one he had been hoping would never come.

Now that it was here, he didn’t know how to answer it. He didn’t want to let go of the past, he had been struggling with the agony of it for months. Letting go would mean the end of everything they had built in that small amount of time, everything they held dear from their younger days.

He couldn’t let go.

But he knew he had to.

* * *

Nothing about the weather had improved later in the week.

It was still blustery, wind at polar temperatures, and patches of ice throughout the town. Despite that, Kuroko realized how antsy Kouki was becoming, and settled on a decision. He couldn’t keep him locked up in the manor all winter because of his uneasiness, no. That wasn’t fair to someone who was now finally branching out into the world after years of fearing it. He didn’t see the harm in a trip to the village, if they moved cautiously.

Maybe he had been a _bit_ too paranoid about the whole matter.

Aside from that, Momoi wanted to introduce Kouki to her friend on the other side of town. She had mentioned on the way, they could stop at a light display that was only lit every few weeks. Something she had seen numerous times, and was eager to have Kouki see with his own eyes.

“We can go ourselves. That’ll be okay, right?”

They had gathered in the village, Kouki clinging more to the duke’s side than usual. It wasn’t as though he didn’t wish to go, but the thought of traveling without Kuroko was only provoking his anxiety. But then again, he wouldn’t be alone. Momoi would be there, so maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible.

Kuroko seemed to think otherwise.

“Momoi-san, I don’t think Kiku-chan wants to go that far. I can always—”

But to his surprise, it had been Kouki to interject.

“I’ll be okay, Kuroko-san.” He tried to smile bravely. “Momoi-san will be with me.”

Kuroko leaned on his decorative cane, weighing on the thought, and Kouki could understand exactly what he was reconsidering. It was rare, if there was ever a time, that they would separate, that they had separated before. Especially in such a large place, a place that brought Kouki such fear in being surrounded by so many strangers.

He was only looking out for his well-being, after all.

“All right, if that’s what you wish,” he finally decided, “I’ll be in this same spot when you return.”

Momoi beamed, reaching for his hand and tugging him along before he got to say a proper goodbye.

“You and Tetsu-kun seem really close. Have you known each other long?”

They had been walking for what felt like hours now, even though it had only been a few minutes. Silence between them, and hands linked as to not lose sight of each other. There genuinely had been no need for conversation, as the crowds made it difficult to communicate. But now that they had reached a clearing and were away from the noise…

Kouki had to repress any pessimistic feelings from surfacing. They had known each other for a bit now, yes, but there were still pieces she was unaware of. A lot of pieces, and how he had met Kuroko was one of those.

“I met him when I was fourteen or fifteen.”

Her eyes widened in awe. “That’s a really long time! Can I ask how?”

Kouki hesitated.

Why couldn’t that be enough to a simple question? Did he have to delve into the truth on how this all came to be? He knew she meant no harm, but at the same time, answering that was going to cause a massive impact.

“I’m sorry.” Momoi had realized. “I didn’t mean to.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s okay.”

Pacing his breaths, Kouki inhaled shakily. He could do this. Not everything had to be revealed all at once, but at least he could say the true meaning. The true meaning without explaining how awful, how horrifying it really had been all along.

And then he expelled that breath.

“Kuroko-san saved me from a bad life.”

Momoi didn’t question, didn’t have to. She just quietly leaned forward and hugged him tightly. In that small hug, Kouki realized she knew exactly what he was speaking of. Even without going into the graphic detail, even without explaining the whole horrible story. That one sentence was all it took.

“I lost a friend by _those_ people.”

Kouki frowned. “Lost?”

“She had gotten pregnant at eighteen” Momoi sighed, “and couldn’t handle the birth.”

He didn’t want to assume, didn’t want to think...

“…Did she…” Kouki swallowed thickly. “…want it before…” It was too difficult to finish his sentence.

Momoi slowly shook her head.

It was all they needed to decide to switch off that topic.

Thankfully, the remainder of the trip had brought favorable conversation. Mostly about vendors they passed, and how they were determined to con them into buying their flawed items. Which wasn’t unusual in a sense, but Kouki had never been to this section in town and was surprised to barely find any difference.

Either way, it was more pleasant to discuss than their previous topic.

They were paces from their destination, would soon be at the display Momoi had gabbled about. And yet, something seemed to be preventing him from moving another step. Something that was very forceful in its doing.

At first, Kouki paid it no mind. After all, they had recently had a discussion that could trigger horrible memories, so the feeling was an automatic, defense response. Overwhelmed by dread didn’t seem out of sorts.

But when it didn’t ease any, he began to wonder.

Maybe it hadn’t been a wise decision to part from Kuroko. His jittery nerves were beginning to indicate that to him, and at an accelerated pace. Still, he couldn’t back out now. Not when they had reached this far after walking for so long, and Momoi was eager to introduce him to her close friend.

He could do this. He _would_ do this.

It was then when he suddenly froze in his path. Kouki’s eyes widened, the panic reaching the highest of levels, and the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He felt sick, the world around him beginning to spin and enhance that horrible sensation. His legs became jello, and his balance gave up, causing him to collapse to the icy ground.

“Kiku-chan!”

Momoi noticed how much he was trembling, and quickly scoped him from the ground without a second thought.

“Hold on. We’re going back to Tetsu-kun.”

She had never ran so fast before in her life.

“Furihata-kun.”

Kuroko’s soft voice easily dissipated amongst the muffled sobs. If they had been further apart, he would have barely heard them in such a spacious area. _Had_ they been, for the masqueraded form was lodged against his shoulder. Fingers were clutching the edges of the cloak that was tied around Kuroko, tugging on it in an almost desperate attempt for reassurance.

After the incident in the village, Kuroko had rushed back to the manor, anxious to get the boy to safety. He didn’t have any clue what had transpired in the moments they were separated, but by Kouki’s behavior, he knew it had to be frightening. Enough that it would cause such an immense impact.

He had ignored the bewildered glances of his servants, and carefully guided the tearful Kouki down the hallway. ****

In Kuroko’s room they sheltered, Kouki taking refuge against his shoulder and refusing to move from the spot he had burrowed into.He remained inert for some time, allowing Kouki to sob out all his fear, his confusion, and anything else he was feeling.

And then, ever so slowly, Kuroko gently eased him into revealing the cause of the upset.

“Tell me, Furihata-kun,” he urged softly, “What happened?”

Kouki’s face didn’t move from his shoulder.

“Was something said between you and Momoi-san?”

He shook his head.

“Did something cause you to remember?”

Kouki tensed.

So, that had been the case. It wasn’t unusual for the littlest of things to provoke Kouki’s fragile mind. Something such as a certain place was enough to conjure up a harrowing recollection that he’d fought so hard to banish.

Given that Kouki and Momoi had traveled to an area that Kouki hadn’t been before, somewhere Kuroko couldn’t remember taking him, there was a high possibility that something there had jumpstarted his memory.

“Did you see something?”

Kouki slowly repositioned his head, but only enough to be heard more clearly.

“… Y-yes.”

Now, this was where he needed to tread carefully. Kuroko knew from experience that one wrong word, and the situation could turn completely chaotic. He could never ask Kouki directly what had set him off. He had to parse out the truth through smaller questions so that he wouldn’t overwhelm him.

But to his surprise, Kouki took the initiative.

“I… I… I saw o-one of t-them,” he hiccupped, “… w-when I was with M-Momoi-san.”

Realization dawned on him, and Kuroko’s concern began to morph into disgust. Why were those scoundrels around here? In all the years they had resided here, he had never once crossed paths with any of them. And to his knowledge, Furihata hadn’t done so either, for surely he would have known.

Maybe because it had been in an area they had never traversed before.

Either way, as outraged as he was about the circumstances, he had much more important matters to attend to.

Kuroko reeled him into his arms, hoping the tight enclosure would bring some comfort to the trembling Kouki. It would never erase everything, but Kuroko wanted him to know that he was never alone, would never be, especially during something as harrowing as this.

“I-I could never forget one of their faces. E-even though it’s been so long.”

The last of the words drained from his lips, and then Kouki was sobbing full force once again. He clung to Kuroko, crying out the torrent of emotions inside him, and gave in to the comfort he was being offered.

Truthfully, as ironic as it sounded, Kouki, in some way, was relieved this had happened. He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to release his emotions so powerfully. Ever since he had returned from the palace, the negativity had been building and building, and when he realized he could no longer have a bit of contact with Akashi, he knew it was a matter of time before it crested over.

But he’d had to conceal that from the community, from Kuroko.

He caught his breath long enough to chance a glance at his reflection, and there the terror amplified. Frantically, Kouki peered around the room for something to fix his botched makeup, but was instantly curbed by Kuroko’s hand steadying him.

“Don’t worry.” His hand gestures ceased the hysteric maneuvering. “Aomine-kun and the others won’t come in here.”

Kouki’s anxiety lowered a peg, and he slowly returned to his post against Kuroko's shoulder. If he could, he would stay here all day, gathering comfort from someone who knew every bit of fear, confusion, and anxiety he was currently experiencing.

A hand nestled in his tangled mane, and Kuroko combed his fingers though the false tresses.

“It’s all right, Furihata-kun,” he soothed, “No one will ever come near you again. I promise to always protect you.”

At these words, the air expelled from him. Kouki’s eyes closed, fingers digging into Kuroko’s cloak as his mind sent him back to another place and another time with someone who meant absolutely everything to him.

_“You’re safe now, Kouki. Nothing will ever happen to you while you’re in my grasp. I’d never allow it.”_

The fading memory caused the tears to double, and Kouki could only cling to him harder as he sobbed into Kuroko’s embrace.

 

* * *

 

 

After months of glacial winter weather, spring had finally dawned at the manor.

However, it wasn’t the fairest beginning. The air still had a bit of a crispness to it, and the sun was often hidden behind the clouds. That didn’t stop him from visiting the gardens, though.

All winter long, Kouki had been forced to watch the barren turf through the frost covered windows, waiting for that one day he could set it to rights. And now that the season of life had come, he wasn’t going to sit idle anymore. Not when there were so many tasks to be done.

Carefully running his gloved hands over the soil, he made sure it was receiving just the right amount of water. Soon these small seedlings would bloom into something magnificent, even if they had a month or more to go.

Kouki tugged the cloak tighter around him and sat on the stony ledge. He tried not to cringe at how cold it was, and rubbed his hands together for warmth and tucked them into his covering.

Hopefully the sun would surface soon and diminish some of the chill. Then he could sit outside without shivering and read a book or two, become lost in their magical worlds.

But right now, the kind of weather he could do that in seemed far off.

It wasn’t uncommon that the first few days, maybe even weeks, of spring were a bit nippy. Yet, Kouki had been yearning ever since his flowers entered their idle period to be able to sit in the gardens. To inhale their wonderful fragrances and gaze at their soft, color petals as he would carefully cut a few for the manor’s decor.

He supposed he would have to work harder at being patient.

“It’s quite cold today, isn’t it?”

He hadn’t noticed Kuroko was standing there, which wasn’t much of a surprise. The duke had a habit of arriving and vanishing without anyone taking notice. It had been that way ever since Kouki first came to the manor. Even his own servants were startled when he suddenly appeared.

Kouki nodded. “It is, but I wanted to plant today.”

“Where did you plant the new seeds?”

He pointed to the area. “I still have a lot of space left, so I was thinking of getting some others later on.”

“We can go later today if you wish. As long as you won’t be too cold.”

Kouki beamed at the thought. “I think I’ll be all right. We went out most of the winter.”

It was then he noticed Kuroko wasn’t garbed in any elegant attire.

“Weren’t you meeting with some clients today, Kuroko-san?”

He shrugged. “I cancelled them so I could spend the first day of spring with you. This is what you’ve been waiting for, is it not?”

Kouki felt his heart flutter at the words. ****

Kuroko was always generous to him. He had already done the kindest of all acts, but his benevolence only deepened every year. Whether it was a gift, spending time with him, or understanding his current feelings more than anyone else, there was always something Kuroko did that managed to astonish Kouki.

He really was blessed.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he found himself saying, “The customers were really important.”

Kuroko frowned at the response.

“Please don’t be upset over that, Furihata-kun. I did this because I wanted to, so don’t think anything is your fault.”

Now he felt sheepish.

“Sorry,” Kouki laughed weakly, “I just didn’t want you to miss anything important.”

Tetsuya nodded. “Don’t worry.” He pulled the cloak tighter around him. “We should go in for a while. Perhaps in a few hours it’ll be warm as it is still early.”

They headed back indoors, and Kouki couldn’t help but breathe a sigh. A happy, content sigh.

Spring was the season for new beginnings. A chance to renew life, and move on from the mistakes you might have made before. It was where he was meant to be, where he had always been meant to be, and would forever be.

He knew he would always love Akashi. That would never change, he was sure of it. There would be times where he’d mourn over the loss of their connection, but this was his life. Right here, in these moments, and in this place. It had been since his past had been demolished for good. And he had begun to accept that.

Had Kouki never gone to the palace, he never would have known Akashi hadn’t abandoned him. He would have lived out the remainder of his life at Kuroko’s home, content. And Kouki was now wondering… if maybe that would have been better than gaining the knowledge he had.

On the other hand… he recalled how much time and effort Akashi had put into searching for him. If they had never crossed paths, he’d most likely still be out there looking for him. Thinking about that desperation made Kouki’s heart ache. So at least there was something good that came out of their unexpected reunion. Akashi would no longer spend hours searching; he knew exactly where he was now.

He too could put a painful part of his past behind him.

Where Kouki was now was where he belonged, and where he would continue to stay.

Within the manor, with Kuroko.

For as long as he was allowed.

* * *

Kuroko resumed his meetings later on in the week. All being held within the manor, as he decided it would be easiest. There were numerous people, some Kouki knew and others he had seen for the first time. Yet, amongst those many people were Kise and a few he vaguely knew the names of. But along with them came a very special guest, someone who Kouki was delighted to see. Especially since he hadn’t seen her for quite some time.

After the incident in the village, Kouki was unsure how to face Momoi again. Not only had he probably made a fool of himself, but he had ruined their plans for the day. She seemed to understand the situation entirely, had quickly acted and tried to comfort him, and had returned him instantly to Kuroko.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty.

He was skittish when they finally met outside in the gardens, spending most of his time being reticent. Kouki didn’t know how to act, was clueless on what to say. What would she think of him now after his breakdown?

Seated across from him, Momoi didn’t seem bothered by the voiceless presence. She was preoccupied peering around the background, eyes roving from the high walls to the area where the seedlings were beginning to bud. That was where her gaze remained, as though she was trying to understand something but couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was as of just yet.

But to Kouki, the silence was beginning to take a toll on him.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed before he could reconsider.

Momoi appeared surprised. “About what?”

He bowed his head. “A-about that day and what happened.”

“Why are you sorry? I’m worried about you, Kiku-chan. I don’t care about that day. I just wanted to know if you were okay, especially since we haven’t seen each other since then.”

“But I ruined your plans. I never got to meet your friend you wanted to introduce me to.”

She placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Kiku-chan, that can happen anytime. We can always go another day. Aida-chan isn’t going anywhere,” she giggled.

The masqueraded boy laughed sheepishly.

“A-as long as you’re not upset, Momoi-san.”

“Of course not!” Her expression became serious. “Are you okay now?”

Kouki nodded. “Sometimes I get overwhelmed.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. A lot of people do in such a big place with so many strangers.”

He chose not to say the real reason. Sure she would understand everything without an issue, but Kouki wasn’t ready to tread that far back. Not yet, that was. Perhaps one day, when their relationship was on a closer level.

It wasn’t as though she wasn’t trustworthy, but he wasn’t sure she could hear something such as that. Not now, maybe not ever.

Given it had warmed up a tad, they decided to sit out on the patio. Momoi was still staring at the sprouting garden, her dark eyes curious. What she was gazing at, he had not a clue, but he was sure she would say so soon.

And that was exactly what she did.

“Kiku-chan?”

He snapped from his daze “Yes, Momoi-san?”

“Tetsu-kun told me you make really pretty stuff.”

Kouki was relieved it wasn’t reverting back to the previous topic. At the same time he couldn’t help but flush at Kuroko’s compliment. He had always done so, but to hear it from another’s mouth made him swell with pride. Pride he never knew he had, never thought he would have.

“Ah, not really. I like to make things out of flowers. Sometimes.”

She leaned forward curiously.

“Like?”

“Oh, flower crowns, mostly. As much as I love my flowers in the garden, sometimes I take some to make those.”

Her eyes widened, like a child who had learned their new toy had come early.

“Do you think you could make me one?”

Kouki peered over at the small stems beginning to wiggle to the surface. The blossoms were nowhere close for plucking, and certainly not full enough to entwine together into a crown.

“There’s not any out here, but I might have some still inside.”

“Oh, no no!” she objected, “I don’t want you to ruin yours. Ki-chan has a lot of loose flowers around. Mostly pink. He likes that color,” she giggled, “Could you use them?”

“Y-yeah. I could do that for you.”

Momoi jumped up from her seat, eager to begin.

“Great! I’ll be back in a bit!”

Bewildered, Kouki stood, but she had already left. She wasn’t going to run all the way back home for flowers, was she? If that were the case, he would have gladly given her the ones inside with no argument. Where she was going would take so long by foot, and even longer to return to the manor.

Concerned, Kouki gathered his skirts and ran back into the manor. He nearly crashed into Kuroko who had come to see what the disturbance was about. Quickly releasing a string of apologies, Kouki bowed repeatedly, but Kuroko held his hand out to cease any more unnecessary babbling.

“Furihata-kun,” he spoke low enough only the two of them heard, “Is there something the matter?”

“Momoi-san. She… um…”

Kuroko raised an eyebrow. “Momoi-san said she was running out to the carriage to get something.”

In the carriage? Kouki couldn’t help but laugh. Of course. Why didn’t he think of that before he jumped to conclusions? It was silly to think she would go so far for something as simple as flowers. No matter how eager she was.

Kuroko’s expression broadened at the abrupt laughter.

“Ah, nothing, nothing.” Kouki waved it aside. “I was thinking something else.”

The duke wasn’t fazed.

“I’m fine, Kuroko-san, really.”

Kuroko nodded. “I believe you, but if you should need anything…”

“I know,” Kouki whispered, once more touched, “Please tell Momoi-san I’ll be waiting for her in the gardens.”

Today was going to be a good day after all.

 

* * *

 

A month had elapsed when they decided to try again.

Kouki found Aida Riko to be quite appealing, and was instantly taken in with her. Even with her slightly rough edges, she was delightful company. She knew when it was time to buckle down, even going as far to criticize those around her, yet she had a charming personality. It wasn’t as bubbly and upbeat as Momoi’s was, but it wasn’t coarse or callous.

Not like some others he had had the displeasure of crossing paths with.

Weeks following the first visit, he was introduced to companions of the two girls. It then became a routine, to have gatherings with their small group. He was always with Momoi, with or without Riko, and Kuroko was always a few paces away. The duke had always been his escort when leaving the manor.

He was still learning the names of the other women. Some he had already memorized after seeing them several times. Yet, he was still shy around them. There were times when he was bashful around Momoi as well.

Kouki was more than used to their girl talk. Most of the time, he wasn’t fazed by it. Even when the topics switched to ones he might have been confused about. He tried to offer his insight, eager to share any advice he could think of. It warmed greatly him to know people wanted to hear his opinion.

But sometimes there were discussions that were more personal than he was comfortable with. He didn’t want to seem impolite, but these topics could trend a bit too feminine, or they were just ones he felt embarrassed over.

Today’s was certainly heading that way.

Except for Momoi and the absent Riko, the girls were gossiping, more so giggling about the people they fancied. It was an awkward topic, especially when it wasn’t interesting to Kouki. Aside from that, he could never reveal who he cherished, who he admired. Never to anyone, even those whom he was close to.

But, they seemed to think they had already pinpointed who it was.

“You’re so lucky, Kiku-chan!”

Kouki became puzzled.

“Eh? About what?”

“You have Kuroko-san,” one of the girls sighed dreamily, “He’s so handsome, and he takes such good care of you!”

Kouki flushed. “A-ah, n-no. We’re not like t-that.”

Strangely and painfully, this response was only making him think of what he had said to Akashi. Back when the at-the-time prince had questioned his relationship with Kuroko, when he thought it was more intimate than it was.

Ergh, he didn’t need to be thinking about that now!

“Tetsu-kun is Kiku-chan’s caregiver,” Momoi interjected, “He has been for a while.”

“Either way,” the girl continued, “You have someone who is high up who cares for you. Some of us are living in a fantasy world. Like Lei-chan. She really is living in one if she thinks she can get who she wants.”

Kouki laughed. “Lei-chan is always doing that though.”

“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “But not all of us think we can somehow get the emperor to notice us.”

It was then he was positive his heart had stopped.

Kouki would have asked her to repeat herself, if he wasn’t so sure he knew what had been said. His palms became clammy, a cool sweat trickling down his neck, and his heart was thumping so hard that it was hurting his ribcage.

He needed to calm down.

How could people not be interested in Akashi? Not only was he the most powerful man in the country, but his looks were nothing short of dashing. Flawless, if he could put it into words. Breathtaking, jaw dropping? There were many he could use to describe him. Between the way the dark bangs swept over his mismatched eyes that shined with love and passion, down to the sinister grin he wore when he was plotting something devious.

But then there was also the ruthless side, the side most were exposed to.

Most but him.

“B-but, visitors aren’t allowed there!” He had no idea what he was saying, if it was even making sense. “S-so how could she?”

The girl shrugged. “She must have caught word about what’s coming up. It’s probably been heard by many people by now.”

Coming up? _What_ was coming up? Why we he so clueless about this?!

“What’s been heard?”

Why was he even asking this? Kouki didn’t want to know, right? Wasn’t he supposed to be moving on, leave the past where it belonged? So why did he care? Why did he… but Akashi and… no.

He had to know what this was about, at least to sate his curiosity.

Or his cracking heart. Whichever came first.

“The emperor has to get married sooner or later. It’s the law, even though he doesn’t seem to have any interest right now. At least that’s what I heard.”

Now he was certain his heart had split down the middle.

Akashi had to get married? How come he didn’t know about this beforehand? Kouki could have said it wasn’t any of his business, but after all that had happened between them, shouldn’t he have the right to know?

“W-what do you mean it’s by law?”

Another girl had chimed in. “Usually when they’re in their early twenties, though sometimes the youngest could be eighteen, they’re usually expecting the emperor to have someone to give them an heir. If he hasn’t found one by then, the higher ups hold a ball for the suitors. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t.”

Kouki remained quiet and allowed her to continue.

“Seeing how he’s a little over twenty-one now, I’m sure it’ll be any day that it happens.”  
  
No. He wanted this to stop. Kouki wanted to desperately to ask that, but he couldn’t find it in himself to. He didn’t want to hear anymore. It was too painful, too difficult to comprehend. Defeated, he could only hope, beg to the higher powers, that this conversation would soon end, for this was the last topic he thought he’d ever be discussing.

Never in a million years did he think so.

And never had he felt such a gaping hole in him aside from back when he was certain Akashi had abandoned him. Now he was abandoning him in a whole other way, and he had absolutely no say in anything.

“But that’s really not something we need to worry about. We’ll all just sit back and watch Lei-chan make a fool of herself. Anyway, should we go back to that design we were doing yesterday?”

Kouki nodded, without a hint of hesitation.

He was eager to distance himself from the topic. Looking across, he could see Momoi gazing at him with concern, but he returned her gaze with a smile. A smile that was hiding everything that was churning inside. But he couldn’t let them see past the façade.

Couldn’t let them see how much he was falling apart inside.

 

* * *

 

Days slowly became weeks, and Kouki still couldn’t accept what he had witnessed, let alone what he had heard. It had to be a stupid rumor, something made up by the gossips around town for their own amusement. There was no other answer. He could come up with too many arguments against it being truthful.

Akashi would have let him know this ball was on the horizon when he had been there if it was actually real. Especially since he had sought to keep Kouki there. He couldn’t have done that if he lied about trying to secure an empress on the side. But Kouki doubted it. Akashi was far too respectful to deceive him like that. It would be completely out of character.

No matter which way he put the pieces together in his mind, he wasn’t seeing the completed puzzle.

With a sigh, Kouki flopped back down onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. His hand rummaged at his side, retrieving the object he had tucked under the folds of his dress. Dangling the expensive jewelry above his eyes, he studied the craftsmanship, the inscription, and the locket shell that secured the fading and raveled thread inside.

Akashi wouldn’t gift him something so precious if he had ulterior motives. This surely would have gone to the future empress, and then to the heir that came after.

So then why? Why would Akashi hold this event after everything that had happened? After everything they shared, everything he had learned?

Kouki groaned and beat his hands against one of the pillows.

“Arghh! This doesn’t make any sense!”

Defeated, that’s how he felt. Kouki wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to directly ask Akashi about if the rumor he heard was true. Only then would he find some peace and be able to put his worries at ease.

Until then, he was once more stuck in the wasteland of his own imaginations.

As though he didn’t have enough to bear, this uncertainty was what would break the camel’s back. Battling his emotions day in and day out was tough. Concealing the truth from Kuroko, lying about his identity to those around him, even those he had grown close to. Living that lie each and every day of his life.

And now this.

“I can never catch a break, can I?” he whispered sadly.

Perhaps he deserved it. Maybe this was his punishment for doing so, for hurting Akashi, after he had given him the world. It was only fair that he would receive this pain in return.

Would it be wrong to write to Akashi himself? But then again, Kuroko would discover it. After all, he would see all the letters that were sent out as he was the one to have them picked up, so Kouki was sure that tactic would be a bust.

Speaking of Kuroko, there was also the fact he knew nothing of his troubles. They were friends, weren’t they? Kuroko would have informed him if he knew of anything as big as this, for he would have received a letter from Akashi. Something they hadn’t seen for months.

Kouki breathed a sigh, a bit relieved at the thought.

Yes, Kuroko would be one of the first to know. The girls were only gossiping, and it was nothing more.

He couldn’t assume anything, he wouldn’t. It was just a silly rumor, and unless word came straight from Akashi, that was how it was going to stay. Kouki wouldn’t let it stress him out. Not until actual proof surfaced, for people gossiped all the time, and it was only that.

Unless there was evidence from the source, Kouki wasn’t going to believe.

No matter how convincing the story might have sounded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Thank you for bringing her, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami stepped aside, allowing the masqueraded form to enter the room. It wasn’t odd that Kuroko would send one of the servants to collect him, but they usually didn’t meet in this room. Kuroko’s office was reserved for business, and he definitely wasn’t tied up in any of that. Not unless…

But when he saw the scroll in his hands, Kouki’s heart clenched.

Surely it wasn’t what he was thinking it was.The letter had to have been from someone else, not the person whose name he was trying to block from his mind **.** Perhaps one of Kuroko’s clients was asking for another distant meeting, and he needed to inform Kouki about possible arrangements for where he would stay. That seemed logical, right? It had to be.

He knew his denial was ridiculous, but Kouki still refused to believe.

Kuroko unrolled the parchment, holding it up for Kouki to see. It wasn’t Akashi’s handwriting, which he was thankful for, even after waiting so long for it. But this time was an exception, for if he had been the one to write, Kouki would know for sure what he had heard was the absolute truth.

“Mibuchi-san has asked for our presence in a ball they are holding,” he explained, “Did you wish to go?”

It appeared to be a simple question, but to Kouki it was one of the toughest he could be asked. Here, he had been hoping for a way he’d be allowed back to the palace, and now that he had one, he was unsure of what to do with the chance.

But the reason for it wasn’t what he’d had in mind.

And yet, Kuroko stood there awaiting his answer. What he wanted to say was completely different compared to what he knew he was about to say.

After so long, how would Akashi act seeing him? Especially for this occasion? How did you go and face the person who was everything to you, after so long, when they were searching for someone to bind themselves to?

Someone who wasn’t you.

Kouki knew how incredibly awkward he would feel if he attended. Watching someone he adored wooing complete strangers and indulging in coquettish conversation with them. And where would he be? Just standing off to the side, knowing that he was once special, could have continued to be special to Akashi, if he hadn’t chosen to flee.

He shook his head.

“No, Kuroko-san. I-I’d like to stay home. If that’s okay.”

Kuroko nodded, not fazed by the stammer.

“That’s fine. You do not have to go. However…” He seemed to be hesitating. “I am going to. Out of respect for the favor Akashi-kun did for me.”

That declaration shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, but upon hearing it, the air caught in his lungs and produced a small cough.Kouki waved it aside when two sets of eyes focused on him, and used his remaining sanity to smile reassuringly. Though inside, he could feel another piece of him snap.

If he chose to go, Kouki would only be humiliated. Countless beautiful women would be clustered around Akashi, all hoping he selected them, and he would be ignored. He couldn’t and wouldn’t go through with it. Life had shamed him enough, and he wasn’t about to walk right into another insult.

Kuroko frowned at his strange behavior, but declined to address it.

“Kagami-kun will be here with you, then.” He looked over at the servant, who nodded. “Aomine-kun will go with me. Is that all right?”

Nothing about the situation was remotely all right, but he couldn’t speak his mind. What he did have to do was answer the question.

“Yes,” Kouki finally whispered, “That’s fine.”

 _I think_ …

* * *

Thanks to the gossipers in their midst, he’d found out that Kuroko wasn’t the only one with an invite. Mibuchi had mentioned in the letter that there had been several sent out, countless, but this was the only one written by him, the only personal one.

The others had been posted by the council or nobles of the court. Invitations had been sent to random strangers, sent to his friends, and Kouki couldn’t fandom as to why.

The whole matter still wasn’t settling with him. Not only did it cause his stomach to churn and his heart to clench, but everything was so confusing. Mibuchi’s letter hadn’t mentioned anything about searching for a suitor, but more so that it was an invitation to a gala and their presence would be appreciated.

Why did it seem like Akashi was trying to…

“Kiku-chan?”

While immersed in his trance, he had completely forgotten he wasn’t alone.

“Huh? Sorry, Momoi-san. Did you say something?”

Momoi frowned. “Are you okay? You seem out of it.”

Was his demeanor that obvious?

“I’m just tired.” He forced a yawn to indicate his point. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

That wasn’t a _complete_ lie. There had been numerous nights lately where sleep was impossible and he spent the time roaming the manor in hopes that he’d tire himself out. Even after so long, there were still nights he could never sleep properly. Whether it was his mind or something else, Kouki was clueless.

It was extremely aggravating.

“You look it,” she giggled, “Are you running around to find something to wear for the gala?”

Kouki grimaced internally.

That was the last topic he wanted to have a conversation about, but it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Almost everyone he passed or encountered was talking about it. He was the only exception.

“I’m not going, it’s not my thing,” he found himself saying. Whether he was in control at the time, he didn’t know. “Are you going Momoi-san?”

She shook her head. “But I know plenty who are.”

“Is this normal?” he nudged, “For an emperor to do this?”

There it went again. Questions escaping his lips before he had a chance to rethink them. Curse his damn heart.

“From what I know, it’s to secure someone to produce an heir.” Kouki repressed the squeak forthcoming. “But in the past it hasn’t seemed like the emperor is worried about that as much as other people are. So this must be a final attempt. That’s what I heard.”

He bit down on his tongue to prevent any laughter. What were they trying to accomplish?

Girls didn’t seem to be interesting to Akashi. Sure, he had likely slept with a few during their separation, as Kouki was aware Akashi wasn’t a virgin when they first coupled. But other than that, he didn’t seem to pay the opposite sex much regard.

“What happens if he doesn’t find anyone he likes?”

Momoi shrugged. “Maybe it’ll happen later on, then. They usually have a match arranged when he’s still just a crown prince, but this time they didn’t.”

For perhaps the only time in his life, Kouki had to be grateful for Akashi’s father.

Especially since he seemed to be the type that would arrange a marriage when Seijuro was young and would push the whole ordeal into fruition. Seijuro was able to wiggle out of a lot, but Kouki was certain if events had played out that way, he wouldn’t have been able to escape a wedding.

“Why so interested?” she poked.

Kouki froze.

“I heard you were there while Tetsu-kun was on business.”

His pulse began to accelerate.

“It must have been so much fun!”

Kouki laughed gingerly. “It was, but it was kind of overwhelming.”

“How is Akashi? I’ve only met him once, and that was when he was younger.”

The nausea began to resurface. Please, no, anything but this. He could deal with discussions about his past which was horrible enough, but not about this. Anything besides Akashi and discussing the time he had spent with him.

He didn’t want to seem rude, though.

“Oi! Satsuki!”

Momoi sighed loudly at the interruption. “Dai-chan is so rude! I’ll go see what he wants so he doesn’t come back again.”

Kouki couldn’t express how thankful he felt for Aomine’s brash behavior then.

If he hadn’t burst in, Kouki wasn’t sure how he would have managed answering Momoi’s questions. Even if they were innocent chatter, with no harm whatsoever meant by them, he couldn’t respond. There were so many things he was hiding, and if any of it trickled out, he would be done for.

Kouki inhaled shakily. How much longer was he going to keep this charade up? His disguise was a huge part of that, but now more and more facets were being added.

Everyone had their limit, and he could feel the beginning of his brewing like black clouds on the horizon. More menacing than ever, because he could see it growing closer, and knew there wasn’t much he could do to avoid it.

 

* * *

  

Kouki sat on the stone ledge, staring ahead at the numerous blossoms that had sprouted in the past week.

It was astonishing how fast a seedling could mature into something as magnificent as what was swaying before him. During the later stages of spring and into early summer, he would stay out here for hours on end. Captivated by the beauty, he would admire the petals as they softly fluttered in the gentle breeze, using the moment to breathe in the floral scent they offered.

But it was one of those rare times that he wasn’t there for that.

Aside from standard routine, this was a place he could isolate himself, him and his inner reflections. And right now, he had numerous of those concerns floating about. Puzzling ones that were taunting his already frail heart, and plucking at his jittery emotions. Thoughts that refused to cease their clamoring.

Behind him, the balcony doors were open, and he could hear the rustling of the manor’s occupants roaming through the hallways. Aomine was his obnoxious self, boasting about something pointless and taunting Kagami. That lasted a few more seconds before the two were dragged back toward the den by the reprimand of their superior.

It never failed to entertain Kouki, especially when Kuroko tugged on the two servants’ ears and dragged them away. The sight of two bulky men that over towered him being towed off like children was always something humorous to behold.

If it wasn’t for the dilemma infecting every corner of his mind, Kouki might have cracked a smile.

His hands toyed with the soil the flowers strived in, fingers digging into the moist surface until they were hidden inches below. Kouki remained in that position, as though mulling through his thoughts, and then ascended until his dirt-caked hands had resurfaced. Unfazed, he paid them no mind as he stared ahead. His focus was not on the pastel bouquets before him, but on the walls many yards away.

Within the next few minutes, Kuroko would be outside those walls, and traveling a great distance. Traveling somewhere that Kouki himself had been, the place where he had reunited with his childhood friend.

His dear friend, whom he had fallen in love with during their time together; though he secretly knew it had really been years before that. The one who he had willingly surrendered his body and soul to, had given his everything to, and then fled from his arms. The man who reigned over this country and all the people within it.

Who was now apparently searching for someone to court and have rule by his side.

Someone who wasn’t him.

To Kouki, the whole situation wasn’t making any sense. He knew the choice he had made, yes, but in doing so, he had also told Akashi he reciprocated his feelings. That, he knew was anything but a lie, and while Akashi might have assumed otherwise, it still wasn’t enough to explain his actions for this sudden arrangement.

He had seen with his own eyes, had heard with his own ears, what the council had expected of Akashi. Despite that, the emperor had completely rejected every proposal they pestered him with. If Akashi didn’t want to attend one of their meetings, he didn’t. The same went anytime they presented their view on something and needed his approval to pass it through. He had always made certain he was the one who had the last word.

So if this was what the council desired, why was Akashi suddenly following through? After all the times he had demonstrated he had no issue in rejecting their claims?

Unless…

Kouki discarded that suspicion. No, there was no possible way. Akashi loved him, didn’t he?

Aside from how he cradled him both tangibly and emotionally, even if he ignored the tender words that flowed from his lips, there was one vital clue that he had given Kouki his heart. The years he had spent searching for him, each and every day as Mibuchi had explained. If he wasn’t yearning for him, then he could have gone ahead with the arranged marriage back then.

… Couldn’t he?

But who was he to have any say in this? He had been the one to voluntarily walk out on him, leave his side after all they had been through, after how long they had both searched and yearned for each other. After…

“Hey, Kiku!”

Startled by the sudden presence, Kouki turned to encounter one of the servants. He had been so consumed by his thoughts that he’d never once heard him enter the gardens nor walk up behind him.

Aomine stood there with a bored expression on his face, gaze landing anywhere else but Kouki’s face. His eyes then moved from the greenery to the waiting girl, his expression never once shifting.

“Tetsu is leaving. He wants to see you before he goes.”

Kouki rose without hesitation, and together they traveled through the manor. Or more accurately put, he made sure Aomine was in the lead while he trailed behind him. If it was Kagami, it would have been a completely different story.

They reached Kuroko’s room and Aomine nodded, leaving him to stand in the entrance. Kouki sighed softly and passed through the open door, finding Kuroko fiddling with last minute preparations. He watched as the duke moved throughout the room, assuring everything was the way it should be and locking the large window.

When he realized Kouki was standing there, his attention shifted entirely to him.

“Are you going to be all right?” Kuroko was frowning, and Kouki could see the concern in his light eyes. “I don’t wish to leave you, but-”

“I’ll be fine, Kuroko-san.” Kouki offered him a weak smile. “There’s no need to be worried.”

Tetsuya secured the last button of his coat. “I won’t be gone long. Kagami-kun will be here, and also Momoi-san said she would stop by. Kise-kun has also invited you to stay there. Kagami-kun will take you if you wish.”

The masqueraded boy remained silent, even as his arms wrapped around Kuroko in a farewell embrace. His mind had once more become nomadic, far beyond his level of control, and this time it was pushing its antics into his heart. Kouki could sense his stomach beginning to bubble, the nausea slowly surfacing, the cold sweat forming against the rear of his neck.

The once small storm inside him had morphed into a massive cyclone, and had turned completely relentless.

Yet, he just stood there as Kuroko moved out into the hallway. He felt his pulse vibrating against the wall of his chest and ascending into his throat where everything felt constricted. The room began to spin, and he quickly reached out to grab the doorframe for support to keep himself from toppling over.

Breathing slowly through his nose, he managed to regain some composure. His mind continued to whirl, the space around him closed in, and slowly Kouki could feel himself beginning to move. His hand was the first to unfreeze, followed by his feet until he had rushed out into the hallway.

Regaining control of his faculties, Kouki pushed his remaining strength forward and yelled.

“Wait, Kuroko-san!”

Tetsuya spun around on his heel, gracing him with a look of concern. The masqueraded boy was waiting at the end of the hallway, his clenched fists shaking at his side, his lips pressed tightly together. Kuroko’s uneasiness only flourished when he realized Kouki seemed to be rooted to the spot.

“Is there something wrong?” He curbed himself from another utterance when he realized they weren’t alone. “Kiku-san?”

Kouki hesitated to answer then and there. Did he truly wish to do this? Actually, the better of the question was, _could_ he? What would happen when he and Akashi crossed paths after so long when they had parted with a terrible misunderstanding on his behalf? Could he use this moment to somehow explain himself? Confess to Akashi why he left in the first place, what he concealing from him all this time?

 _Everything_?

“Kiku-san?”

Wasn’t he supposed to be slowly erasing him from his memory, no matter how impractical that sounded? Trying to move on even though his heart protested each time he attempted to do so? But then how could he live with himself in knowing they had parted this way, to continue on until his life cycle ceased? The least he could do was repair the large gap between them that he himself had inflicted, and then he would return to the manor.

But was that even the correct choice, let alone the wisest?

Kouki swallowed thickly. He would worry about this later. Right now, there was one decision he was willing to see through. If he didn’t take the chance, when would the next one come? This was probably the only opportunity he had, and he knew he would be a fool to ignore it when the path was already laid out so clearly for him to follow.

Inhaling deeply, he looked at Kuroko and answered.

“I… I want to go with you.”


	13. Chapter 13

Kouki froze, hands clasped over his mouth as he realized the fatal error he’d made.

He’d never expected to say what he had. Hadn’t he decided days ago that he wasn’t attending with Kuroko? That should have been the end, then and there. But he’d once more underestimated his heart, for it had won that battle, and prevailed victoriously before he could regain control of his actions.

Kuroko moved to stand beside him, surprise washing over his face.

“Is that what you want, Kiku-san?”

Kouki gripped the doorway, his breath hitching. This was the finaltime. After that, there would be no more chances. He knew the risks, yes, knew there was potential that everything between Akashi and him was in shambles. But he had to try. Kouki would never forgive himself if he lost this opportunity. Whatever other worries he had on his plate now could be dealt with after Kuroko and he returned.

“…I… yes, Kuroko-san. I would like to go. If that’s okay with you.”

Kuroko smiled. “Of course it is, but you will need to pack.”

Kouki’s lips trembled slightly. It was taking all his composure to act normal, and now he had another reason to loathe his decision.

“I’ll be delaying you now.”

“That is no matter. We will leave tomorrow instead.”

It didn’t ease his anxiety any. “But won’t that make you late?”

Kuroko shook his head. “I have things to finish. While you pack, I’ll attend to them.”

His attention shifted to the servant lounging against the wall.

“Kagami-kun, please assist Kiku-san with anything she needs.”

Realism returned. “Ah, it’s okay, Kuroko-san.” Kouki waved his hands. “I can do it myself.”

Aside from the fact that he didn’t require any assistance, Kouki needed to rest his voice. Though the servant was unlikely to spark any conversation, Kouki wanted to eliminate the possibility. The feminine high-pitched tone he used day in and out was beginning to agitate his throat, and he couldn’t rest or indeed, retreat to his usual voice with Kagami in the room.

“Very well. When you are finished, someone will come and take your luggage to the carriage for our trip tomorrow morning.”

Kouki nodded. “Thank you, Kuroko-san. I’ll go and pack now.”

He turned back into the suite, heading toward the closet. A few steps in, he paused in his tracks when he realized the items within the room weren’t remotely close to his. Kouki’s cheeks flushed, and he hurried out into the hall to see Kuroko blankly staring at him.

His mind must have been completely preoccupied.

“Oops,” he laughed sheepishly, “I forgot where I was.”

The faint smile he received was enough for Kouki to flee down the hall. Anything to avoid further embarrassment. Though, the difficulty of walking in heels wasn’t aiding him any. Destination reached, he nudged at the door, which he knew for certain was his room, and then slowly closed it behind himself. It was better to do this without anyone sneaking up behind him- even Kuroko.

For certain purposes.

Tugging open his closet, Kouki began to skim the countless outfits inside. All were truly lovely, as was everything Kuroko had gifted him in the past. Beautifully crafted to perfection, down to the final stitch. However….

He peered behind himself for good measure before venturing further into the walk-in closet. Shuffling through dress after dress, he paused when his attention landed on one in particular. He gazed at it, eyes capturing every breathless aspect, while his hands trailed over the elegant material.

Truthfully, he had wanted to store it where it originally came from, but it had been designed for him. Created from pure scratch for a rather special, if not one of the most important, occasions. He didn’t want to reject the gift by abandoning it. ****

But he couldn’t wear it there. Wouldn’t that enrage Akashi, if he wasn’t already at that point? Or would Akashi be elated to see that he had held onto it and treasured the gown? Then again, Kuroko would ask him where he got it from, and then…

“Argh!”

Kouki quickly slapped a hand to his face. _Idiot!_ Hopefully his closet was as deep as it looked, and concealed any sudden, alarming sounds.

Packing wasn’t the issue. If that was all he had to do, he would have been done ages ago. He had many casual outfits for voyaging, but this was a ball. And not only just a ball, but the one where Akashi was to…

He bit his lip, tossing that thought aside. This wasn’t helping him decide any quicker.

“You need something really fancy,” he tried to soothe himself, “That’s all. Fancy for a nice ball. There’s nothing else. It’s only a ball.” ****

But what? Nothing, despite how fancy they were, would be as luxurious to wear to a ball at the palace. He could… maybe… no, that would take time, and they were leaving tomorrow. Besides, that would be extremely selfish on his part.

This conundrum would have to be figured out later tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

"How long are you going to glare at me like that?”

Reo scowled and pointed to the clutter on the counter.

“Until you stop making a mess!”

Flour coated most of the surface, pieces of moist dough clinging to the edges. Large bowls and pans lined with some dark paste were piled in the sink, and for some reason, frosting was stuck to the once-polished taps. If it wasn’t frosting, some other condiment had spilled, marking a path toward where the stove was.

To think this was only one section of the kitchen.

“I’m already behind.” Nebuya paused to shake the powder off his apron. “You gonna help me, or complain? I know you can do this stuff, too. Better than me, I’d bet.”

The chamberlain scoffed.

“I have no time for baking. The ballroom is only half-decorated, nothing is in the order it should be, and Sei-chan is already in a foul mood. Which makes me wonder why he’s even holding this ball.”

“Probably bored.”

Unconvinced, Reo began to fold the embroidered napkins they’d be using for the ball’s table settings.

“No. You don’t understand, Ei-chan.” The uncertainty oozed in his tone. “This makes absolutely no sense. Sei-chan doesn’t have any interest in anything the council suggests.”

He peered over to see Nebuya removing a cake from the oven. From what he could distinguish, it seemed edible, but that was never the issue. The issue was Nebuya indulging in cakes before they ever made it to the guests. Which usually resulted in Reo rushing to produce a replacement.

Thankfully, the last few hadn’t met that tragic demise.

“Sei-chan never agrees with them on anything. He can’t stand parties, balls, anything where he’s flocked to by the public.”

Not only was this a rather large gala, but it had a specific purpose. A purpose the council had been nagging Akashi about constantly for months now. That should have been enough of a motive for him to reject their request, but for some bizarre reason, he hadn’t. There hadn’t even been a slight disagreement, no hint of provoking a quarrel. Something that always occurred when the council presented their demands.

It didn’t make any sense.

“Yeah,” Nebuya placed the cakes on top of one another, “but if he picks some chick, then they’ll stop bugging him. That’s why.”

Reo tried not to roll his eyes. “Believe me, Ei-chan. When I say that’s not happening, it’s not.”

“Isn’t that the point of this shit? All these people coming all over because that’s what he’s supposed to do?”

Reo sighed. “Yes, it is the point. Which is why I’m saying it makes no sense. Something is fishy about the whole situation.”

“What do you think’s happening?”

Wasn’t that the question he had been asking since this all began? Akashi was a mystery in of himself. It was difficult enough to understand what he was thinking, even more complicated to get him to admit anything. But this was something Reo was stumped on, even when he was the top person that Akashi confided in. For him to invite Kuroko, without informing the chamberlain as to why, Reo knew something was amiss.

Not only Kuroko, but Furihata as well. Why would he allow them to be here and accept the notion the council was requesting? Especially Furihata.

He could easily prove Akashi had no interest because of Furihata. However, no one else knew of the masqueraded boy’s true identity, and he surely wasn’t about to expose that. Unless there was some underlying cause that Reo was hoping wasn’t the reason; the dots weren’t connecting the way they should have been.

“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling we’ll find out later.”

Reo paused in folding the napkin, squeezing the material between his fingers. He couldn’t soothe the pit of dread that had formed in his stomach, and it was only flourishing with each passing second. What was Akashi planning, and why had he kept him in the dark about it?

All this left him extremely unsettled.

“Though I’m not sure I really want to…”

* * *

There were a few raps against his door. Gentle enough to know it wasn’t Kagami or Aomine knocking, but persistent enough to where he knew exactly it belonged to. Who was he trying to fool? This should have been predictable. Word traveled fast in these parts, especially with the soaring gossip from the upcoming event.

Hopefully it was only her, though.

Gathering his long skirts, Kouki approached the door to grant entrance. He was barely able to utter a greeting, as he was swept into a pink cloud when Momoi stepped into the room. Her beaming smile and giddy posture revealed all he needed to know about why she was here, even so late in the evening.

“Kiku-chan! Tetsu-kun tells me you’re going after all!”

His laugh was wary. “Yeah, I...um…” Kouki stumbled over his words, “I-I thought it over, and decided I really did want to go.”

When in all truth, no, he _didn’t_ want to go. Kouki didn’t wish to be around all these strangers. Crowds made him nervous as it was. And though he knew Kuroko would be there by his side, the thought of being surrounded by people from possibly all over the world was only increasing his anxiety. If it wasn’t for the chance to see Akashi, maybe for the final time, he would have never given it a second thought.

How come it had to be this way?

“What changed your mind?” Momoi’s voice pierced his troubled thoughts.

That was the grand question, wasn’t it. What _had_ changed his mind? Aside from that he was carelessly leaping into the opportunity, there was no solid answer. Surely Kuroko would be asking him the same during the trip there.

“Nothing really… I… um… thought maybe it would be nice to go.”

He sounded so unconvincing, it was pathetic. _Get the spotlight off you, Kouki! Get it off!_ If they continued to discuss this reason, he would end up rambling on about everything he had worked so hard to keep hidden.

“I’m surprised you’re not going, Momoi-san. You said you liked adventures.”

Momoi giggled. “This is a bit too much, Kiku-chan. I’ll sit this one out.”

Did she ever have it right on the mark. It definitely was too much, overwhelming in fact. He wished he could sit it out as well, but there was one leading factor preventing that. The only resolution he had was to go, even if every passing thought was building up a sickening feeling inside. ****

Kouki smiled faintly. “Maybe next time?”

If there was a next time.

“Maybe.” She noticed the half-packed bag. “Are you leaving tonight?”

He shook his head. “Ah, no. Tomorrow morning, but really early. Kuroko-san had something to take care of. …um…”

Momoi frowned at the hesitation.

“What’s wrong?”

He could at least tell her that.

“I really wanted to wear something fancy,” he confessed, “All my clothes are pretty, but I’m not sure they would suit a ball at the palace…”

Well, _one_ did, but that was completely out of the question. Geez, was this fuss called for? Maybe he was the one being too critical, and there would be no consequences in wearing one of his usual. Besides, he was sure Kuroko wasn’t griping about the whole ordeal as he was. He never did.

Momoi tapped her chin in thought.

“I have just the thing, Kiku-chan!” She latched onto his hand and headed toward the door. “Come on!”

He didn’t believe revealing his dilemma would result in being dragged through the manor.

“W-where are we going?”

“Back to my place.”

Kouki froze. “O-outside? I-in the night?”

The one time they had tried that, it had evolved into a disaster. Not only had it been in the middle of the village, with Kuroko a few paces away, but had occurred during the daylight. If it had floundered then, Kouki was certain traveling in the evening wasn’t going to be any better. In fact, he was positive it would be worse. And though he knew she was trying to help, the wisest choice would have been to stay at the manor. ****

Fearful of a relapse, he quickly thought of a way to politely decline. He wouldn’t be alone, yes, but that wasn’t enough to appease him. After all, back at the palace, he had been with two of the servants. The journey had been for their own selfish reasons, and Momoi surely wouldn’t abandon him as they had done… but it still didn’t change the fact it was out there, during nightfall.

If something did occur, there would be no Akashi there to rescue them as there had been the last time. But then again, Momoi was extremely self-reliant and could handle herself. She wouldn’t need to be watched over.

It was the sudden footsteps that made their own halt.

“Momoi-san,” Kouki could hear the frown in Kuroko’s tone, “Where are you going, and with Kiku-san?”

She quickly turned to him with a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Tetsu-kun! I promise I’ll have her back soon! We’re just going to my place for a bit to get something.”

Kuroko didn’t budge. “Momoi-san, I don’t want you two going to the village right now. It is not safe. Besides, Kise-kun will be done soon.”

“Silly Tetsu-kun. We’re not walking there! The carriage is still here. We won’t be gone long.”

Kouki had to laugh to himself. He too had assumed the same. The carriage, of course. It was that moment he was thankful for never objecting more, for he would have appeared completely ridiculous. Of course they wouldn’t be walking somewhere so far away. He was foolish to ever think so.

The duke’s gaze locked with his, and Kouki smiled softly in return, nodding.

“All right,” Kuroko sighed, “But do hurry back. Kiku-san needs her rest for the long trip in the morning.”

Satsuki winked, raised her thumb, and then Kouki was once more being dragged from the manor.

“Come this way, Kiku-chan.”

This wasn’t his first visit to the estate, but he wasn’t familiar with the section they were in. Come to think of it, he wasn’t familiar with any except one area. Each visit, they had always been confined to one room, and it was always a brief trip. By the way it was going on, it didn’t seem as though he was about to get the grand tour tonight either.

They were on limited time, yes, but whatever Momoi had come for, she was anxious to show him.

Before arriving, they had met Riko, and she too had ~~been dragged~~ decided to tag along, Momoi insisting on her help. She seemed as clueless as he, but Kouki could only assume this was in regards to his dress woes. After all, what else could it be if not? Did she know someone who was a swift-paced dressmaker?

No, that wouldn’t be practical. Besides, they could have been the most skilled seamstress in the world, and they wouldn’t be able to produce a gown that quickly.

They entered what he assumed had to be Momoi’s room, with the pink and light blue décor. He was guided to a chair, and then she was heading toward the closet, disappearing for a few moments. Together, Riko and he awaited her return, Kouki peering around at his surroundings. ****

When she did, she was holding a gown, a beautifully crafted one. Kouki was certain he felt his eyes go wide at the sight of it. Was this…?

“Try it on!” she urged, placing it on his lap.

Kouki stared down at the dress, fingers squeezing the soft material. Even with the numerous cushions underneath his clothing, it would be obvious. Obvious he wasn’t feminine, at least not in one certain sense. There was no turnaround for that fact, something he knew that no matter how much makeup he was caked in, would never change.

He was going to have to think of a way out of this, and fast.

“I’m…. um….” Kouki blushed, words tangling, “I-I’m kind of shy. I’m not like…er…”

However, Momoi somehow understood.

“Oh, don’t worry about that! Aida-san relates to that completely. You see how flat chested she is.”

Riko glared. “She didn’t need to know that.”

“I think it was kind of obvious.” Satsuki stuck her tongue out.

She continued to glare. “You don’t have to bring it up each time!”

Kouki waved before them. “Uh, girls?”

“I wasn’t trying to! Kiku-san is shy, so I figured she needed to know it was perfectly normal.”

“Then use a better example next time!”

Kouki frowned, once more attempting to regain their attention. How would he have ever thought speaking of his physical appearance would result in a massive quarrel. He could only hope it wasn’t going to last much longer, since not only would he feel guilty for causing it, but they were on a time limit.

“Sorry,” Riko sighed, the argument finally diminishing, “I’m constantly bothered by that…and Momoi is really…”

Momoi’s eyebrow quirked.

“Let’s just say… she’s always in my face.”

Kouki couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s kind of how I met her.”

“Okay, okay, enough about my chest.” Satsuki quickly switched back to the previous discussion. “You don’t have to try it on then now, Kiku-chan. But maybe you could…”

Guiding him toward the mirror, she positioned him before it. Her fingers ran through the long chestnut locks, ridding them of any tangles and placing them delicately over his shoulders. It was a soothing gesture, but Kouki was more concerned that the wig would slip off somehow and raise unwanted questions.

“Aida-san, get the dress, please.”

Once it was in hand, Momoi placed the gown against him, holding Kouki in place as she returned her gaze to the mirror. It wasn’t a proper fit since he wasn’t exactly wearing it, but the design and colors were enough to convince him.

This was the one he wanted to wear.

“Perfect!” She beamed. “It’s going to look wonderful on you, Kiku-san. You’ll be the prettiest girl there.”

“And maybe even become the suitor,” Riko chimed in, causing Momoi to giggle.

Kouki nearly choked. “Ha… haha… y-yeah…maybe.”

_…If only you knew…_ They had absolutely no clue how right on point they really were.

 

* * *

 

Reo's forehead wrinkled, teal eyes twitching within their slumber as light poured through. Who decided it was a brilliant idea to leave the curtains open? Especially when he absolutely loathed it first thing in the morning? It certainly wouldn’t have been him, so he could only blame the other occupant.

Groaning, he rolled around until he was shielded from the harsh sun’s path. He buried his face in the pillows, once more closing his eyes. As far as he was concerned, it was too early to function properly, or remove himself from the sheets. Whatever had to be done now could wait a few more minutes… or hours.

At least, that was what he was counting on. Something was trickling onto his brow, causing sleep once again to be disrupted. Bewildered, he cracked his eyes open and peered over to see Nebuya drooling in his sleep. Resisting the urge to push him to the floor, Reo settled on smacking him with one of the pillows on their bed. ****

“Disgusting! Ugh!”

Unfazed, his lover remained immobile. How typical.

Now thoroughly roused, Reo surrendered to reality and climbed out of bed. There was absolutely no point in trying anymore. Besides, there were countless tasks to be done before the grand hour was upon them. Maybe he could use this spare time to somehow clarify what was afoot here.

He was relying on faith today, in hopes it wasn’t going to transpire the way he had been envisioning. There had to be some other hidden concept about the whole matter, and he had yet to learn it. In truth, Reo was banking on hearing it directly from Akashi, and not having to guess himself, or sit by as the event unfolded.

Exiting from his quarters, he encountered vacant halls. Thank heavens for that. Now maybe he could somehow make a beeline toward Akashi and discover his intentions. They were still within the wee hours, so he could easily travel without any other presences in the way.

If it wasn’t for the sudden joyful, yet extremely annoying voice that was soon piercing the air, that was.

Reo’s steps came to a halt. Of course it had to be one of them. Who else would interrupt his plans other than one of them? Sometimes he swore they had some sort of tracking or monitoring device hidden so they knew when someone was alert in the palace to greet them.

Or kick them out, which was usually the preferred option.

“Mibuchi!” _Oh_ , that voice was grating. “Why the long face? Today is a big day!”

He chose to remain silent. Maybe it would prevent the council member from babbling on more, and then he could be on his way.

“And where is Seijuro-sama?”

No such luck.

Reo shrugged. “I assume still asleep.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be. He should be wide awake and ready for today. It’s an important event, you know.”

The chamberlain rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I know,” he muttered, “You’ve only talked about it nonstop since I’ve had the misfortune of bumping into you.”

“Then I will assume everything is ready?”

At this rate, he would never get to his destination.

“Yes,” he repeated, “Everything is going according to plan. Now if you don’t mind —”

The council member wasn’t convinced. “Why isn’t this area decorated?” He gestured all around them. “Should you not have decorated the whole palace?”

“Oh, how forgetful of me.” Reo’s teeth clenched. “I suppose I should get right on that! Even if no one will be within this part since they are forbidden to be.”

A tsk. “That shouldn’t be. They should be able to enter whatever parts they want.”

“Is that so?” another voice quipped, “They should be able to access areas I deem private?”

Akashi glided down the hallways, already dressed to perfection, and crimson locks secured in a tidy braid. His heterochromatic eyes were narrowed, the expression he wore not requiring an explanation. Once he had arrived where the two stood, his gaze was instantly upon the council member, features darkening more than they already were.

“What, may I ask, is the reason for your visit? I care not for your drivel at this early hour.”

From what he could perceive, Akashi was already in a foul mood, and this unwanted visit would only enhance it. He wouldn’t get the chance to interrogate him. Why did fate have to be so cruel… or better yet, why did the council members have to be so damn annoying and persistent.

“To discuss the occasion of course, Seijuro-sama.”

Akashi’s brow rose. “What occasion are you speaking of?”

“Why, the ball today! You’re going to choose the one to become your empress.”

His tone certainly didn’t match the council member’s elated one.

“Hmm, that.”

The council member nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Why are you not excited? This is your future!”

Reo’s suspicions magnified when the emperor’s glower unfolded. Was it his imagination, or was Akashi’s lethal aura diminishing at that statement? Akashi was actually eager for this ball? He had been erroneous this whole time, and there was no other meaning behind this? No, that couldn’t be. Then that meant everything his heart held onto for so long would dissolve. Every memory, every cherished moment, and then soon Furihata would be nonexistent.

A chuckle was heard, a low and satirical one.

“You’re more ignorant than I thought you were.”

If he could, Reo would have shouted in joy. That was it, the one remark he had needed, what he had been waiting for. To have some confirmation that he hadn’t been wrong all along. Oh, what a relief it was to know, to hear! And the crowning moment was the confused expression of the council member.

“I don’t under —”

“Leave now.” Akashi’s stoic mien had returned. “I do not need to be pestered since this foolishness isn’t starting for a few more hours.”

Ignoring any protests, Akashi focused on his head servant.

“Come, Reo. We have much to discuss.” ****

He didn’t have to be told twice. In a split second, Reo was by his side. Now if the damn old fool would leave, maybe Akashi would reveal his hidden intentions. But of course, why would it be that easy? It never was, and usually required some form of extreme manipulation on Akashi’s part.

That wasn’t the case this time around, for Akashi’s patience was already far too thin.

“Apparently, you have become hard of hearing. I said to leave now. I will meet with you in the afternoon.”

No longer caring, Akashi began to walk away, Reo trailing behind him. He was going to uncover everything even if it meant doing some serious prying.

Conveniently, he’d always been good at being nosy.

 

* * *

 

 Prior to this moment, Kouki could only recall one other incident where his anxiety had been this elevated. It had been an entirely different sense of fear compared to those of his childhood, and ironically, it was due to the same person.Only this time, Akashi knew unquestionably who was beneath the many layers of fabric. Unlike the last, when he thought Kouki was simply a guest that he had been forced to take under his wing while Kuroko was away.

No, this time there was a chance Akashi loathed him, and given the purpose of the invite, Kouki was sure he was no longer the center of Akashi’s universe. Honestly though, how could he blame him? He had no say in what happened in Akashi’s life and the choices he made. After all, he had made the ultimate one over a year ago, had he not?

Dreary thoughts aside, Kouki returned to gazing at his reflection. Momoi’s dress fit him like a glove, which had caught him by surprise… given certain _aspects_. The color scheme was simple, yet elegant enough that it overshadowed any others. Beautifully crafted white lace with a sky-blue trimming interlaced was the top portion of the dress, flowing gracefully down to the middle. The gown itself was the same light blue, made of the softest silk Kouki had ever touched.

Aside from one other dress.

Now alone, Kouki could admit to himself the reason he had accepted said gown. Being able to mingle with the scheme of royalty wasn’t why he had searched so frantically for a fancy ensemble. No, and while he knew it was now completely pointless… he was hoping. Hoping that it would be enough for Akashi to once more turn in his direction, to turn away from whatever or whomever he was involved in. It was selfish, yes… but Kouki could no longer quarrel with his true feelings.

A knock interrupted his troubles.

“Kiku?” Kagami’s voice rang from the other side. “Uh, Kuroko is ready to leave.”

“Ah, coming!”

He rushed to unlock the door, and was surprised to find Kuroko standing there now instead.

“You look beautiful, Furihata-kun.”

Kouki froze at the name, but then realized it was only them. He laughed softly, cheeks lightly tinted, and reached for the hand being offered to him.

“You look nice as well, Kuroko-san. We kind of match.”

Tetsuya smiled. “Shall we?”

Dawn was barely breaking as they exited the manor. But the sun wouldn’t surface, not within that specific period. A light drizzle had begun to fall from the heavens, and Kouki was quickly covered with a large umbrella. Calm before the storm, wasn’t that the saying? Because a storm was certainly brewing.

“What a pity,” Kuroko tsked, “Good thing it takes place indoors.”

Kouki nodded, slowly climbing into the carriage. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, and he could feel the butterflies flapping their wings against his uneasiness. After so long and so many attempts to stay in contact without anyone knowing, he would finally be within Akashi’s presence. Soon, there would no longer be distance between them… physically. ****

But Kouki was unsure about anything else.

 

 

 

 

 

Reo maneuvered through the crowds, greeting each maiden he happened to encounter. Most were solo, as they should have been, yet some were attached to a partner. A concept he didn’t understand. What was the logic behind that if you were trying to snag the emperor’s attention? Not that it mattered, since he knew Akashi cared not, but they were unaware.

They were only making themselves appear ridiculous.

He had even been cursed by some batting their darkened eyelashes at him. Reo scoffed at the feeble gestures, but continued to smile politely.His teeth were starting to ache, and he was counting down the seconds until everything would conclude. Even if it had only been an hour since these shenanigans began, he was already clawing at the walls to escape. But there was a purpose, and he was hoping that purpose would soon come to pass.

Or else everything would be in vain.

Finding a clearing, he made his way toward the entrance where he spotted the other chamberlain.

“Kota-chan, have you seen any sign of Kuroko?”

Hayama cocked his head to the side. “Who, Reo-nee?” ****

“Kuroko Tetsuya,” Reo huffed, “You know, blue hair, blue eyes, nearly Sei-chan’s height?” ****

He received a blank stare.

Reo scowled. “Then have you seen Kiku? You must remember her. She was here for over a week!”

Tongue poking through his teeth, Hayama brushed it against his lip in thought. His brows furrowed, forehead scrunched in concentration as he tried to recall. There were countless people that went in and out of the palace, so it was hard to pinpoint exactly who it was. But he did know that name from somewhere, didn’t he?

“Oh, her!” Finally, some sort of recognition. “Yeah, there was something really weird about her.” ****

Reo rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. Keep watch for her or Kuroko, okay?”

Hayama frowned. “How come?”

“Don’t ask questions.” He knew this would end up in a circle. “Just come find me as soon as you see them.”

“Gotcha!”

Turning on his heel, Reo peered around the grand ballroom. There were many guests, most of whom he had never seen before. But the one they were gathered there for was currently absent. Akashi had every reason to be in hiding. The council was watching his every move, and each time some maiden approached him, they were instantly there with their annoying commentary.

The whole matter, as far as Reo was concerned, was a waste of time and effort. Not to mention extremely aggravating. A formality Akashi never would have given a second thought about until the instant it gushed from the council’s lips.

And never would have been arranged, if it wasn’t for the reason of…

“Reo-nee!”

Frozen in path, he turned to see Hayama rushing toward him. That was quick, far too quick. He had only left him with instructions only moments ago. Had Kuroko actually shown up?

“We ran out of small cakes!”

Reo’s eye twitched.

“Then tell Ei-chan! I’m busy! I told you to come and get me if you saw Kuroko or Kiku!”

Hayama bowed his head. “Right, right!” He straightened, hand in salute. “Sorry, I’ll keep watch! You can count on me!” ****

“I’m beginning to wonder otherwise,” he mumbled.

Heaving an irritated sigh, Reo resumed his search for the roving emperor. The guests in their redundant ballgowns made it difficult to thread through the space. But Akashi couldn’t have wandered too far, not when he knew what this pointless event could deliver.

More so, _who_ it could possibly bring.

 

 

 

 

 

They were nearing the entrance when Kouki suddenly froze.

His grip on Kuroko’s hand tightened, his eyes swelling, and soon his breaths were expelling in short-winded gasps. A cool sweat was pooling around the base of his neck and trickling down his back as he began to tremble. Oh, gods. Was he having a panic attack amidst everything else? Kouki didn’t know what was worse, to collapse in front of thousands of people, or to appear foolish in front of Akashi.

Either way, one of the two was about to happen.

“Aomine-kun, Kagami-kun, go on ahead,” Kuroko instructed, “I will meet you soon.”

Despite being a bit skeptical about parting from their superior, the two nodded and left. ****

With them now out of sight, Kuroko guided him toward a bench and away from the guests’ path. Kouki used the moment to compose himself, trying to prevent any tears from escaping and destroying his makeup. He had worked too hard to beautify himself, and he wasn’t about to let this ruin everything.

To think he had been in control the entire ride, yet the second they arrived…

“I’m… okay,” he breathed, “I just got scared for a moment. That’s all.”

Scared wasn’t remotely close to how he felt. If he said he was about to spew his insides? That might have been somewhat more on the level. The sight of the gates that guarded the palace entrance only caused his heartrate to accelerate. His hands trembled, his chest ached, and his bubbling stomach wasn’t aiding the situation any.

Tetsuya frowned. “We don’t have to go if you don’t wish to, Furihata-kun.”

He quickly shook his head. “No, Kuroko-san. We came all the way here. I couldn’t do that.”

“I do not want you scared.” He brushed a loose strand behind his ear.“I can’t have you feel that way, and you know that. All these people might be a bit too much.”

Kouki’s lips trembled, and he squeezed Kuroko’s hand.

“I’ll be okay,” he repeated in a laugh, hoping it masked his uneasiness, “I promise I will be.”

_I have to be… I need to see him._

 

 

 

 

“Reo-nee!”

Mibuchi groaned. He was exhausted from being thrown back and forth. In the past three hours or so, Hayama had come running to him about pointless rambles about ten times. Which wasn’t remotely close to what he had been ordered to do. Aside from that, keeping tabs on Akashi was beginning to wear him down as well, especially when he was snagged by some official each time.

Quite frankly, he was ready to admit defeat.

“What?!” he snapped, “Kota-chan, I am tired of this. I told you that — ”

“But Kuroko is here!” Hayama bounced forward. “And that girl!”

Reo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“Are you certain?”

“Yup!” Hayama pointed. “See?”

Peering over the numerous guests, Reo spotted a familiar head. Sure enough, it was Kuroko, and thankfully by some miracle, Furihata was with him. Finally, luck was beginning to shine his way. Even if he wasn’t too keen about what the results would bring, at least they had come.

“Go and get Sei-chan. I think he was… ugh... with one of the council members.” He stomped his foot when Hayama didn’t move. “I said go now!” ****

 

 

 

 

Arm entwined with Kuroko’s, Kouki was guided through the masses of ball gowns. His eyes were peeled for some sort of an opening, as Kuroko knew crowds weren’t his forte. But it was next to impossible, even in such a large room, to locate a vacant area. There had to be thousands of people present, and one of them would be it.

They would be the one to stand next to Akashi.

Kouki could feel the burning gazes on them. While he knew his dress was one to attract attention, that wasn’t the reason. Peering ahead, he caught sight of Akashi approaching them, and there was absolutely nothing standing in his path. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run.

“Tetsuya.” He nodded respectfully. “It’s wonderful that you have come.”

Kouki’s pulse once more began its violent rampage, and he was sure everyone around could hear it. How long had it been since he peered into those mismatched eyes? That he had seen that face? It was agonizing to grasp this was happening before him. Right then, right there.

Dazed, he could only watch in utter silence as Akashi’s eyes drifted to him.

“And, Kiku, you have returned.” His tone was cool, practically glacial. “I do hope your second stay is enjoyable.”

Thankfully, Kuroko was there to rescue him, as always. Kouki hadn’t even realized how tightly he had been gripping the duke’s hand until Kuroko moved at his side to respond. But Akashi surely did. Perhaps that was the reason for his icy welcome.

“We thank you for the invite, Akashi-kun. This must be a very important occasion for you.”

Akashi’s gaze lingered on the masqueraded form, and he faintly smiled.

“It has served its purpose.” ****

Confusion swelled in his heart. So he had already chosen someone? Where were they then? Was he going to announce it soon? These horrible, unanswered questions roamed Kouki’s mind, and suddenly he didn’t wish to be there. It was painful enough to accompany Kuroko when he knew of the potential outcome. But now that Akashi had confirmed it, this was the end to anything else. There was absolutely no reason for him to stay, and Kouki found himself searching for an escape.

It was then when the music changed to a slower tempo, and Akashi’s gaze was once more on him. His lips curled slowly, eyes lowering, and he held out his hand.

“May I have this dance, Kiku?” He quickly scanned Kuroko. “That is, if Tetsuya doesn’t mind.”

Kuroko smiled. “It’s Kiku-san’s decision.”

By some bizarre motion on his part, Kouki found himself nodding. Why he had done so, he didn’t know. His heart seemed to still be in control, but he was convinced it was a tad confused. He knew Akashi had another, and the only logical explanation his fogged brain could hatch was that he wanted to gloat. To show Kouki he didn’t need him, without revealing to Kuroko he knew of his hidden identity.

He was then whisked away.

For a few moments, they danced in silence, Kouki debating if he wanted to lean forward and indulge in the warmth radiating from him. He had yearned for it for over a year, but there was now something preventing fulfilling his desires. No longer could he seek shelter in Akashi’s embrace, he could never listen to his soothing voice diminish his fears, never be able to restore the bond that he himself had crippled.

This dance wasn’t anything like the one they had shared alone on the balcony that one magical night. After this, there would be no more, for Akashi’s heart now belonged to another. Someone who wasn’t him. But this was what he had wanted all along, wasn’t it? For Akashi to be happy, for he knew it could never be with him.

Why did it hurt so much, then?

Using their closeness as the opportunity, he began to survey Akashi.

His hair was a glaring feature, now grown down to his shoulders, but tied back neatly in an elegant braid. How Kouki wished he could comb his hands through it, and his trembling fingers exposed that. Akashi’s cheekbones were high, chiseled to perfection, exactly the way Kouki had remembered them. His crimson bangs were much longer now, easily shielding his eyes from the world around him.

… Those... eyes… the mismatched depths that once harbored such warmth only for him, were hardened, callous, absolutely chilling to peer into. At times, Kouki had to look away because it was almost frightening to do so.

Still, despite the darkening aura surrounding him, Kouki found him beautiful.

Akashi never spoke a word, never spared him a glance as they continued to sway gracefully to the music. Even the way he was holding his hand didn’t feel the same. Maybe because it had been so long, that Kouki had forgotten? That was a possibility, but it was beginning to seem like —

He was then dipped, and gently pulled back up. Akashi’s lips brushed against his ear.

“Did you believe I didn’t have some way to bring you back to me?” ****

Kouki stiffened, but it didn’t stop their movements, Akashi leading their steps with ease. Had he heard right? This was a ploy to lure him back? There was no… wait, this was too confusing for Kouki to follow correctly! ****

Around them, no one suspected anything. Not as the emperor continued to twist and twirl a mystery girl around on the dance floor. Surely many eyes were upon them, questioning who she was. If only they knew what Akashi and him were to each other, what they once were. And Kuroko, only a few paces, believing it was a simple gesture by the emperor to dance with the girl he had cared for in his absence.

It was so much more.

Somehow, he found his voice. “W-wasn’t this set up by the officials? For the whole… y-you were supposed to find someone to be your empress.”

Akashi laughed lowly. “So, you do know about that.”

Of course he did. That was the reason he believed this event was for, before he learned it had hidden intentions.

“They didn’t pressure me. It would be foolish on their part to do so, but seeing how they spoke of a ball being held for the occasion, I went along with them. They, being clueless, were elated, and had no idea that I would use this to my advantage.” His expression was once again detached. “I’m actually surprised you came. I didn’t think you would.”

Kouki frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You can answer your own question, Kouki.” ****

The coldness had diminished, and he could now detect the hurt in Akashi’s tone. It was almost unbearable to hear, especially this close, and to know he had been the cause, only strengthened his guilt.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered.

Kouki tried not to cringe at the tightened grip.

“I am not a switch, Kouki. You cannot flick me and expect that I would forget everything so quickly. But apparently, you can.” ****

Forgotten? Kouki was lucky if a day passed where he wouldn’t think of him, if he was able to settle in at night when he yearned for the warmth he had become so accustomed to. The lack of security that he could only find in Akashi’s arms. Sure he had Kuroko, and now Momoi and Riko by his side, but it would never be the same, but Akashi wouldn’t understand that **.** Not when he had left without an explanation, an explanation he knew he could never explain.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

There was nothing else he could say.

“Not as sorry as I am.”

Akashi swayed him to the side, and then he was once more back in his embrace.

“How is it with Tetsuya?” he suddenly asked, “Is he treating you well?”

Kouki’s head lowered. “O-of course.”

“I suppose better than I, since you chose to go with him instead.”

No, this wasn’t correct at all!

“That’s not true,” he found himself raising his voice, “None of it.”

Akashi’s brow rose. “Oh? You didn’t abandon me over a year ago? After I told you exactly how I felt, and you supposedly the same? Or, was that another lie, Kouki?”

“It was never a lie. Nothing was. Everything I’ve said has always been the truth.”

“Is it now?”

Kouki nodded. “Yes. It always has been.”

“I find that difficult to believe.” The coolness had returned. “Do tell, Kouki. Does Tetsuya hold you the way I do? Does he let you stay with him when you cannot fall asleep? Embraces you when a storm is near so you don’t have to fear it?”

“He….”

“I suppose he drops everything to assure you are safe. Doesn’t tolerate anyone who mistreats you, who lays a finger on you.”

Kouki’s eyes began to water. “Sei, please stop, I — ”

“You will address me as Akashi.” His mismatched eyes narrowed. “Only those who are close to me are allowed to call me by name. Since you are at least in the ward of one of my acquaintances, I won't expect you to address me by title. Consider yourself privileged.”

It was all Kouki could endure.

Jerking away from Akashi, he disconnected their joined hands, and fled into the masses of people.

 

 

 

 

Aomine winked at a passing girl, chuckling when she stuck her nose in the air and continued down the hall.

“Right back at you, babe!”

Kagami scowled. “You’re ridiculous. You’re making yourself look more like an idiot than usual. If that’s possible.”

“Jealous, Kagami?”

Taiga rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m jealous of your skills at failing to flirt.”

Daiki sat on the couch, sliding closer until their knees bumped. ****

“There’s no need to be,” he cooed, “You know I have eyes for one person.”

A snort. “Yeah. Yourself.” ****

“That’s not who I meant.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You know exactly who.”

Kagami blushed. “Listen, asshole, I — ”

Their banter was interrupted when a blur of blue and white came spiraling down the hallway. Instantly, Kagami rushed after it, trying to prevent any further damage, while also trying to figure out the cause. Why was she alone, and where the hell was Kuroko?

“Whoa, Kiku! Calm down!” His hands shot out. “What’s wrong?”

Aomine had joined in, steadily grasping Kouki’s shoulders.

“Hey! Kiku!”

But Kouki’s fragile mind had lost this battle, morphing in a whirlwind of tangled emotion. His anxiety from earlier had magnified, and any sense of sanity he had left was hanging in shreds. Vaguely, could hear Kagami’s panicked voice, feel hands against his back that were elevating him. But his vision was becoming murkier with each passing moment.

And then all he could see was darkness.

* * *

Beneath sealed eyelids, Kouki listened as concerned voices flickered in and out all around him. Almost instantly, he recognized Kuroko’s. The other, however, was a bit distorted against his fogged memory. Something was oddly familiar about it, though. He knew this person; that much he was able to grasp, but from where, and why was he having such a difficult time recalling?

As much as he wished to peek for himself, his head was throbbing. His throat was raw and scratchy, though he couldn’t remember why, his chest tight, and his eyes ached. The previous scene continued to flash before him, and Kouki had to restrain himself from unleashing another set of tears.

In simpler terms, he was a complete wreck, and he wasn’t sure if this time he’d be able to piece himself back together.

“Will she be okay?” the owner of the second voice questioned softly, interrupting his thoughts, “She’s been out for a while now.”

Kouki heard Kuroko sigh.

“It probably was not a good idea to come here with so many people around.”

Regret bled in the duke's tone, and Kouki’s heart clenched. This wasn’t Kuroko’s fault, none of it was. He had been the one who wanted to go, to at least have one last glimpse of person he loved in secret. Even if Akashi was resentful… which he had discovered the hard way, Kouki had wanted to see him one last time. But the results had been absolutely disastrous.

A fine web he had tangled himself in.

“Do crowds bother Kiku-san?” The worry was practically melded into their tone. “Or, perhaps, did she see something that frightened her?”

Kouki grimaced internally. If the fragments of your heart being obliterated in front of the one you loved consisted as a reason for being frightened, then maybe. Yet again, he couldn’t blame Akashi entirely for how he reacted. He had been the one to provoke that, all of it, and now he was probably adding onto Akashi’s confusion.

The silence reigned between the two, and then Kuroko heaved another sigh, a mournful, strained one.

“She has an extreme fear of crowds.” Kouki could tell Kuroko was hesitating. “I’m sure that was the cause of this.”

“Does she become anxious around them?”

Why was this person so interested in his wellbeing?

“In a way. But it’s not exactly like that, Mibuchi-san.” Kouki fought to open his eyes. Of course! How could he not recognize Mibuchi’s voice? “I do not wish to talk about it since it hurts Kiku-san, but she had something happen to her. Something that shouldn’t happen to anyone, and that is why she becomes afraid so easily.”

Reo’s concern only magnified, as did his curiosity, but he didn’t want to prod an already extremely delicate situation. If Akashi wasn’t allowed to learn the reason of Furihata’s past and for his disguise, then it was something that was well guarded. He wasn’t going to push any further.

Instead he bowed his head. “I hope she gets all the rest she needs. Please, take all the time that is required and more, and don’t hesitate to call me if you should need anything.”

Kuroko smiled faintly. “Thank you, Mibuchi-san.”

“Of course.” He nodded once more. “I’ll be on my way, now.”

Departing from the room, Reo closed the door and stepped out into the hallway. He expected to encounter Kuroko’s two servants, lazily leaning against the wall and not wanting to interfere in their master’s care for Furihata.

Yet it still wasn’t a surprise who was there awaiting his return instead.

Akashi stood a few paces to the side, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, the same coldness chiseled into his features. The façade would be easily believed to anyone who had the misfortune of crossing paths with him, but Reo saw right through. Cracks of that frigid demeanor were beginning to form, and the heart that adored and treasured Furihata with its everything was trying to regain control.

He glanced at the emperor and shrugged his shoulders.

“Kou-chan just needs a lot of rest.” And he would have left it at that, but there was no such thing as being brief with Akashi.

“You were in there quite a while for that to be all you discussed.”

Reo frowned, knowing there was no way around it.

“I don’t know much, Sei-chan. All Kuroko said was that Kou-chan had something happen that causes him to be afraid of crowds. Something that shouldn’t happen to anyone.” Akashi’s gaze pressed him, but Reo protested. “Please, let’s not push it, and let Kou-chan rest.”

The chamberlain’s breath pinched as Seijuro’s eyes continued to bore holes into his soul. Reo was silently pleading it had been enough to convince him to leave it at that, for Furihata’s sake. He knew how stubborn his superior could be, and there was a storm brewing in those mismatched eyes, one he knew had no intention in settling or diminishing anytime soon.

Then, to his relief, Akashi glided past him, without another word, in the opposite direction of where Furihata was resting.

Reo expelled a gust of air. “I didn’t think he’d listen.” But there was a nagging feeling within him that refused to budge.

Back inside his quarters, Akashi slammed the door closed with such a force that the candles on the wall vibrated. His fingers clenched around the knobs, knuckles becoming white with how firm he was gripping onto them. He could feel his pulse quicken, his emotions whirling through him, and pulling him deeper and deeper into their vortex.

When Kouki had first appeared at the entrance, what had come over him was indescribable. Anger, pain, confusion, and if he had to say, relief. After they had parted, he didn’t believe the masqueraded boy would show again. And yet, he had. Kouki had taken the bait he had hoped would lure him back.

It was impossible to forget, though, and the expression on Kouki’s face only irritated him more. Here, for the past year, he had been dealing with the loss, and Kouki had shown up, clinging to Kuroko’s side as though he had not a single worry in the world. As though he wasn’t in the home of the person he claimed to love, and then left without so much as an explanation.

All of that had enraged the emperor.

Fueled by that pain, it became difficult to control the words that expelled from his own lips. Akashi wanted him to experience the hurt he had been enduring for the past year, to feel what impact he had caused by rejecting him for Kuroko. The words he’d used had shown that, and had caused the masqueraded boy to run from him once more in a fit of tears. He’d wanted to go after him then, but he couldn’t find the will to move in that moment.

That mixture of emotions had vanished into concern when he learned Kouki was unconscious.

A simple argument between them wouldn’t have caused that. Not entirely. There was some underlying cause, and it was only perplexing Akashi more and more.

At first, he thought of letting it slide. After all, he had a promise to uphold. No matter how much it was ripping him apart, he would keep his pledge to Kouki and not reveal anything to Kuroko. That was the way his father had raised him, to be a man of his word.

But that all changed after Reo’s vague explanation, vague but taunting enough to kindle the remains of his sanity. There was a limit, and that limit had finally been reached.

His grip loosened on the door, and Akashi ran a hand through his untied mane. Eyes fluttering, he eased his thundering pulse, and heaved a long, shaky breath.

“Forgive me, Kouki, but I can’t do this anymore.”

Gathering himself, he pulled open the doors and peered out into the hallway to see his chamberlain hadn’t moved from his post. Reo probably was still unsettled from their discussion. This would make everything a bit easier, and hopefully a lot quicker.

“Reo.”

The chamberlain was instantly before him.

Akashi didn’t hesitate. “Bring Tetsuya to me.”

He frowned, his brows lowering. “Sei-chan, you don’t —”

“I didn’t call you over here to have a debate. Find him, and tell him to meet me in my quarters.”

Mibuchi bowed his head, knowing it was futile to try to convince him anymore.

“As you wish.”

Turning on his heel, Reo made his way back toward the guest part of the palace. That harrowing feeling had magnified now, and he couldn’t cease the queasiness that was beginning to form. Somewhere in him, he had hope that he had persuaded Akashi to not interfere, that he wouldn’t mingle in everything, and it would work out the way it should.

He should have known better.

“Please, Sei-chan,” he whispered to himself as he stood before the portal, “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

Knocking twice, Reo waited until one of the servants granted him entrance, and stepped into the room. He forced himself forward, his heart plunging when he saw Kuroko was seated at Furihata’s bedside. Oh, how he didn’t wish to intrude, but these were Akashi’s orders. One would be foolish to try to defy him.

“I don’t mean to disturb.” Furihata still inert only made him more uneasy, and now Kuroko would be leaving his side. “But Akashi-sama wishes to see you, Kuroko-san.”

Kuroko seemed surprised by the request, but it was for a flicker of a second before his usual blank stare resumed. He slowly nodded, and then turned his gaze to his only servant present within the room with them.

“Kagami-kun, please keep an eye on Kiku-san. If she awakens, make sure she drinks plenty of water.”

With a false smile, to where his teeth were grinding into each other, Reo led Kuroko back out into the dim hallways. They traveled in silence, though Reo wondered if the other took notice of his unstable heart rate.

It couldn’t be helped. He was terrified. For himself, for Furihata, and especially for Kuroko. When Akashi allowed his emotions to control him, anything could happen. Sometimes it had a positive outcome, but as of lately, it had been the entire opposite. The past year had been absolute hell, and it was even more tiring pushing Akashi to rule the damn country since he’d been in this slump.

He could only plead to the gods this time would be different.

Stopping before the grand doors of the emperor’s domain, Reo shrugged off knocking, and pushed them open. He held out a hand, and allowed Kuroko to step through first until they were completely out of the archway.

Reo peered around the large area until he located the other presence, seated across the spacious zone. Carefully guiding Kuroko through with whatever candles were lit at the moment, he stopped before the set of cushioned chairs, where Akashi had rose to greet him with a short nod.

“Akashi-kun.” He nodded in return.

His superior’s state was enhancing Reo’s jitteriness. Akashi was far too calm for his liking. Comparing it against a bomb ready to detonate was fairly apt, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be here any longer.

“You may go now, Reo.” He couldn’t have been more grateful for those words. “Thank you for bringing him.”

The emperor waited until Mibuchi made his exit before gesturing toward one of the chairs.

“Sit down and make yourself comfortable, Tetsuya. I do believe we are in need of a long talk.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadness, much sadness ahead. As though you didn't expect that one.

“Thank you for coming. We appreciate your company. Please exit through the doors to your right.”

Reo shuffled through the numerous ball gowns, attempting to usher people out as swiftly as possible. As far as he was concerned, the event had persisted far too long. And with the emperor absent for the rest of the evening, there was no longer a point to it. Besides, the guests were beginning to irritate him in more ways than one. Especially when some had been caught snooping in areas that he was certain Akashi had placed off limits.

“Yes, yes, thank you. Exit that way.”

The quicker the palace was emptied, the quicker he could return to his post. Right now, circumstances were extremely delicate. Though he knew he couldn’t interfere with the discussion between Akashi and Kuroko, he could at least assure that Furihata was still resting comfortably. Kuroko’s servants weren’t exactly the brightest bulbs in the box when it came to these matters. One of them, that was. The other seemed to have some sense floating around in that dome of his.

Reo had witnessed Furihata’s masqueraded form flee from Akashi and dart into the crowd. At the time, he’d been unsure of why. Had he become frightened? Were the countless strangers around him a bit too much? It was then Reo had noticed Akashi’s expression, and realized what had occurred. Clearly, the emperor wasn’t thinking correctly, but he couldn’t hold that against him. Not when he had seen Akashi at his worst, not when he knew how everything was weighing him down. And yet, though there were more amicable ways to deal with the situation at hand, Akashi had seemed to be out of patience.

Reo could only hope what was currently developing in the meeting wouldn’t lead to the same results. Or worse.

Surveying the room, he became aware of others assisting the guests through the exit. The scuffs on the once-polished floor were obvious as they all took leave, their heels scraping against the tiles; the wreckage from tonight’s event would probably take hours to clean. But thankfully, the nightmare would soon conclude. At least his fellow workers were being useful in clearing the room of obnoxious guests at a decent speed.

Well, some were. His eyes widened at Hayama still running around with a tray and handing occupants treat after treat. When was he going to learn that when something was said, that it meant it was to be done, and there were no exceptions?

Reo quickly rushed over to him, slapping the tray out of his hands.

“Stop offering them food!”

Hayama frowned. “But, Reo-nee! They were hungry!”

He could feel his eye twitching.

“They can go eat in their homes. It’s time for them to go.” Pushing Hayama in another direction, he continued with, “Do me a favor, and go help escort them out.”

“Got it!”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to myself,” Reo mumbled before returning to the task.

Resuming his rounds, he spotted a couple still dancing, even though he had dismissed the musicians over an hour ago. Oblivious to their surroundings and ensnared in their own world, they refused to acknowledge what was happening around them. Emotions, especially ones that were potent and deeply involved, could provoke this type of behavior, but there was a time and a place for it.

And it certainly wasn’t _now_ nor was it _here_.

“Hello.” He approached with a smile. “May I cut in?”

The couple, puzzled, allowed him to wiggle in between them. Reo’s smile continued, enough to where his teeth were creaking, though he had no intention on joining in on their dance. Nor was he about to declare that courteously. There was no longer the risk of consequences. He had had enough, and he hoped this was the final event Akashi accepted from the morons that thought they were above everyone else.

“I believe my instructions were clear…” The smile vanished. “Leave. Now.”

Nebuya made his way over. “Why are you being so damn crazy? They’re leaving.”

“Not quick enough. They were told when to, and they’re ignoring it!”

Nebuya frowned. “The hell they are. You need to calm down.”

“I can’t,” he huffed, “Sei-chan is going to do something that he’s going to seriously regret. I know he is.”

“He picked someone? I didn’t see him do it.”

Reo scoffed. “That’s because he picked someone a long time ago.”

Aside from the couples loitering nearby, he had to deal with the sniveling maidens that had ignored his calls for them to leave, and instead were searching the palace for Akashi. Reo was certain that was the last thing the emperor wanted to deal with right now. Not with what was currently happening, and interrupting his meeting with Kuroko for something pointless would only rouse his ire.

Which was already at a precarious level.

Peering behind his lover, Reo discovered another lingering couple. His annoyance flourished. It seemed that if he wanted to clear out the rest of the guests, he would need to take drastic measures.

Lucky for him, being on edge had given him just the right amount of fuel to take on those measures.

Quickly approaching them, he once again cut in between the pair, and pointed a long digit toward the exit.

“I said to leave!”

* * *

They had only been seated across from one another for a few moments, but the uncomfortable reticence to speak made it feel like hours.

Kuroko handled the time by peering around the shadowy domain. Elegant yet simple. Furniture that wasn’t extravagant, but still screamed of absolute wealth. He wasn’t surprised by the décor’s monotone scheme, or how the thick curtains sealed out any intruding sunlight. It painted an ominous portrait of the country’s leader, one who was not meant to be provoked.

As expected of Akashi.

Their first meeting had been the exact same. Though only sixteen, Akashi had been intimidating, practically terrifying to those who were unfortunate enough to cross his path. He never cracked a smile, was easily nettled, and had no issue berating those who had wronged him. To most people, he was the splitting image of his father, would follow his footsteps obediently. But, Kuroko had always sensed a pained aura around him. He had assumed then it was due to Akashi’s late mother. However, the emperor was never one to expose his emotions.

Because of this, it was difficult to understand what Akashi was thinking as they continued to drift in silence. Why had he been requested here in the first place? Was it about what had occurred during the ball? Did he happen to be irritated that it was in the middle of a grand event where he was to select who would rule by his side?

Kuroko was utterly clueless.

But before he could reconsider, Akashi had moved.

“I will get straight to the point.” He folded his hands over his lap. “Enlighten me, Tetsuya. What is it that makes Kouki want to stay with you?”

Despite the shock that name was somehow within this discussion, Kuroko’s bland demeanor prevailed.

“Who is it that you are talking about, Akashi-kun?”

“Do not treat me as I am an idiot. I am aware of Kiku’s identity.”

Kuroko wasn’t easily swayed. While he was clueless on how this came to be, he had a promise to uphold. Safeguarding his identity was one, if not the most important commitment to Furihata, and Kuroko was going to do all in his power to remain doing so.

“I’m not sure what you are speaking about—”

“Tetsuya.” He could tell by the low tone Akashi was becoming vexed, and fast. “Cease this game now.”

Kuroko hunched forward in defeat. Although he was unclear when Akashi had discovered the truth, the entire blame was on him. He was certain this pretense wouldn’t have been unraveled if he never brought Furihata to the palace in the first place. Silently apologizing to the masqueraded boy that he had failed him, Kuroko reluctantly surrendered.

"How is it you know this?” he inquired, "Did you happen to see him when he was undisguised?"

Akashi’s irritation didn’t fade. “I did not. He revealed it to me himself.”

“With all due respect, Akashi-kun, I have to say that is a lie. Furihata-kun would not do that for strangers.”

His chuckle was practically sardonic. “I am far from a stranger to him, Tetsuya. In fact, I have known him much longer than you think.”

Now Kuroko was puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“Since we were children. That is how long I have known him,” was the simple reply.

"Then he knew all along he was coming to you when I first put him in your care?"

Kuroko flinched when a slight sting invaded his heart. How? Why? The masqueraded boy had withheld a secret from him, and it was a rather large one. Furihata had seemed so reluctant to leave the manor, flustered and uneasy when he was introduced to Akashi with what he thought then was the first time.

And yet, he could recall when Furihata had stared after the departing form. He had been in a daze, hand out as though trying to reach for Akashi, but had brushed it off as being overwhelmed by everything. So, was it all an act, and Kuroko had been the fool all along?

“No.” Akashi’s response broke through his concern. “He wouldn’t have known that it would be me.”

This was only perplexing him more.

“I’m sorry, Akashi-kun, but you are not making any sense.”

Akashi heaved a sigh, still seemingly annoyed. “He wouldn’t have known at the time I was the crown prince.” Kuroko’s stare prompted him to continue. “I hid that from him when we first met as children. He was clueless of my true identity.”

Taken aback, Kuroko could feel his own annoyance brewing.

“Why would you keep that from him?”

Wordlessly, Akashi rose, and Kuroko wondered if this discussion had abruptly concluded. But when he began to wander around the room to stand before one the of the large windows, he had resumed with an explanation.

“It was because I wanted him to see me as an average child. I did not want this title. I’m sure you can see, I still don’t, but I have no choice in the matter.” His voice softened. “Kouki gave me a world where I was Akashi Seijuro. Not the crown prince. Not the future emperor, but a normal child. Something I never thought I could have. If he had known, he would have treated me differently. He might not have wanted to see me anymore.”

Kuroko shook his head. “Furihata-kun wouldn’t do that.”

The emperor’s laugh was strained. “You do not know him, then.”

Jaw clenched, his hands tightened as he pleaded for his sanity to remain durable. His pride was everything to him, and was essential to his role. Betraying it would have been a taboo. Akashi was never one to admit what taunted and devastated his heart. Not unless he was close to the one he was having that rare discussion with.

But if this was what it was going to take to regain what he was at risk for losing for the now third time, then pride be damned.

“We were friends for years. He showed me an actual childhood, and I took care of him the only way I knew how. By wealth, but that was a must since he lacked numerous essentials.” His expression became resentful, though hidden from the other occupant. “Eventually, my father caught on that I was disappearing throughout the day, ignoring his pointless lessons, so he locked me in the palace. I could not find an escape route.”

There was one notion they agreed on; the former emperor was indeed tyrannical.

“That sounds like something your father would do. Furihata-kun must have been looking for you.”

“He was. He had…” Akashi trailed off, heaving another sigh to conceal the cracks in his pitch. “When I finally escaped, Kouki was no longer there. He wasn’t at our usual meeting spot. The house he shared with his mother was abandoned.”

Kuroko frowned. “She has passed.”

“I am aware of that. She was ill during the years we were friends.” He chuckled bitterly. “We had at least something in common.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Kuroko’s head bowed in condolence. He didn’t need the pity. There had been countless, numerous disappointments in his life thus far, and he wasn’t about to start accepting peoples’ sympathy now.

“The last time we met, was the final time I saw him. As I became older, and grew into power, I sent our search teams for him every day. But I could never find him. I thought he too had passed, but where was he that whole time?”

He finally turned around, mismatched eyes narrowed.

“With you.”

Unfazed by the daunting shift in the atmosphere, Kuroko continued to listen. He knew Furihata hadn’t been with him the entire time. No, he knew exactly where he was, how he had suffered for that horrible period in his life until he was finally able to free him.

“If you had never brought him here, I never would have found him. I suppose I should be thanking you for that.”

Kuroko nodded. “That is just how it came to be, Akashi-kun.”

He returned to his chair. “Which leads to the most important question. After all I have been through with him, why would he still choose to leave with you?”

“Perhaps he felt awkward being around you when it had been so long.”

Akashi released another low chuckle, that Kuroko could hear the bitterness in it. “Stuck on our childhood? Is that what you believe this is about? Come, Tetsuya, you are a wise man. I don’t believe I have to state the obvious.”

Slightly ashamed, words ceased. Kuroko wanted to say he did, but he had been oblivious to the signs surrounding him. Although he found it odd that Furihata wanted to keep writing to Akashi, he dismissed it as a simple, kind gesture. But now, now everything was making sense. Kuroko should have known that the moment Akashi affirmed Furihata’s name. Akashi was far too doting when speaking of the masqueraded boy for this to be only about a childhood friend.

Yet, all these moments passed by him, and he had failed to realize the obvious. Perhaps he was too distracted by other matters, too worried why Furihata seemed more depressed than usual when he returned. But he should have known… should have…

“Kouki is everything to me, and at one time, I thought it was reciprocated, but it seems his words have been lie after lie. For if he did, he would have stayed here instead of choosing to leave with you.”

It was difficult to fashion the correct response.

“I cannot speak on Furihata-kun’s behalf. The decisions he makes are his own. No one is pushing him to do anything.”

“You saved him, did you not?” By Kuroko’s expression, he knew he had been unprepared for that declaration. “That much I am aware of. From what, I don’t know, but whatever it was connects to his disguise. To the nightmares he has.”

Kuroko hesitated momentarily.

“Yes, I saved him.”

“Saved him how? What happened to Kouki that he must depend on that disguise? Why do the smallest of noises startle him? Why is so apologetic about everything?”

Kuroko answered the swarm with silence, but it was enough to prod at his wrath. Akashi could feel his sanity begin to slip, teetering on the edges. They had gotten this far, and though Kuroko had been tentative, now he had clammed up entirely. Finally losing the battle with patience, Akashi slammed his hands down on the table between them.

“What happened to him, Tetsuya?!”

Startled, Kuroko recoiled, unprepared for such raw emotion. Never had he witnessed Akashi react so powerfully before, not to anything. It was apparent that Furihata was special to him, if not the most important person in his life. Despite that, he had a promise to uphold, and he had already exposed enough.

“I am sorry, but I can’t say unless Furihata-kun said so.” Kuroko peered across. “Has he?”

Marginally calmer, Akashi leaned back as he skimmed his recollections. He had questioned Kouki’s behavior on multiple occasions, but it wasn’t until the night of his coronation that Kouki had professed his insecurities. How skeptical he had been about consummating their bond, periodically emphasizing how he was tainted. What he meant then, Akashi didn’t know, but Kouki was ashamed to be touched in an intimate manner.

Nevertheless, after some careful reassuring, he had agreed to it whole heartedly.

“He is reluctant.” There was no need to go into detail. “I have asked, many times, in fact, and he refuses.”

“Then I am sorry, Akashi-kun, but I cannot tell you.”

Remarkably, their disagreement then came to a halt. Despite how intense Akashi’s stare was, he hadn’t uttered another word since then. The stormy aura had diminished, replaced by absolute defeat. Akashi appeared lost, puzzled even. As sympathetic as he was, Kuroko knew nothing could be done to amend that.

Not with that pledge intact.

“Then answer me one question.” Discussion had resumed. “At least grant me this.”

Kuroko nodded, though a bit wary.

“What happened to Kouki… is it all connected? The disguise? Why everything startles him?”

He tried not to sigh. There was no other option, was there.

“I will give you that answer only, Akashi-kun.” Kuroko paused, as though reconsidering. “Yes. Now please, let us end this.”

While the response should have lessened his persistence, it only increased it by tenfold. Akashi continued to stare at him from across the table, hands clenched and dull fingernails digging into his palm. Once more he could see the flickering in those mismatched depths. He was about to lose the battle with patience yet again.

“Tetsuya.”

It should have been expected Akashi wouldn’t succumb so easily. Nonetheless, he had said his piece, and that was as detailed as he was going to go.

“Please.” Kuroko then stood. “I’m sorry, Akashi-kun, but this discussion is over.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mibuchi was leaning against one of the marble columns, arms crossed, and turquoise eyes scanning ahead.

He peeked in the room behind him every now and then to monitor Furihata, since Kuroko’s servants weren’t exactly the most attentive. But he continued to remain unconscious, having barely flinched since rescued by Kagami from the hallway. It was alarming, so to say, that something so severe had occurred that locked him in this state.

Reo wasn’t about to reveal he knew what it was.

Come to think of it, how long Kuroko had been absent was another concerning factor. What would be the extent of their discussion? Even though he wasn’t entirely clear about that aspect, Reo knew his superior. Akashi had an awful tendency in granting his pride, if not complete, then an exceedingly great amount of control.

He could only hope he wasn’t doing so for this.

“Sei-chan,” he sighed to only himself, “Please don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

It was then a figure was heading in his direction. Kuroko appeared uneasy, maybe a bit shaken, though he masked that with a slight smile, and then nodded to the chamberlain in greeting.

“Mibuchi-san.” Despite his flustered state, Kuroko’s voice was quite steady. “Has Kiku-san awoken yet?”

He shook his head. “She is still asleep, I’m afraid.”

Kuroko frowned at the news. “Thank you for watching over her. I will take over from here.”

“Of course. Is there anything you need, Kuroko-san?”

He paused at the door, as though reassessing his actions.

“Yes. Please tell them to have the carriage ready.”

And then he had disappeared.

Reo remained frozen. Was Kuroko about to take leave with Furihata in this state? What did Akashi say that caused this response?

No, there was no time to wonder about it.

Instead of asking himself, he rushed to his superior’s quarters. Not bothering to knock, Reo yanked open the doors and searched the room for the emperor. He was easily spotted, despite the shadowy glow of the room, sitting in the same location he had been before.

“Sei-chan! What happened? Are you okay?”

He was graced with a blank stare; Akashi hadn’t moved from his chair since the discussion concluded. They drifted in silence, and Reo wondered what could have possibly occurred during the time he and Kuroko had met, what could have ruffled his superior’s nerves. Whatever it was, it had made Akashi go completely undone.

At length, he spoke.

“This is done. I cannot do this anymore.”

His response puzzled the chamberlain.

“What are you saying, Sei-chan?”

Akashi laced his fingers through his hair, palms flat against his forehead, and eyes sealed. He was clutching at the shreds of his sanity to stay composed. Outward, he was slowly pulling himself together, but inside he was scattered, broken behind belief, and he was beyond clueless if he would be able to repair himself.

Whatever it was that Kouki was hiding, Kuroko was guarding it. It didn’t matter that he yearned to know why Kouki was so timid and jittery, why he was so apologetic. Kouki didn’t trust him with that information, and Kuroko had confirmed that. He wasn’t going to keep pursuing him, wouldn’t push Kouki and force him into a corner. Aside from that, the constant back and forth had demolished whatever energy remained inside him as well.

“I have to think about myself, too, Reo. This is finished,” he affirmed, though his words trembled, “F… From now on, it will be as though Kouki and I have never crossed paths.”

Reo felt flabbergasted. “You can’t do that. That’s impossible!”

“I can, and I will. These games will cease once and for all.” His voice quivered slightly, but the stoic façade was beginning to settle into place. “Now I must take my leave. I have matters I need to attend to.”

The chamberlain stared as Akashi got up and retreated from his quarters.

What could have occurred in the meeting with Kuroko that caused such a decision? Reo knew he wasn’t in a position to interfere, but Akashi was once more suppressing the turmoil he was enduring. Afterwards, when hours had passed, this would result in a complete disaster that Reo himself would have to deal with.

That was more of a reason for him to pry, no matter how resistant Akashi might prove.

* * *

**_“That’s not true. None of it is.”_ **

**_“Oh? You didn’t abandon me over a year ago? After I told you exactly how I felt, and you supposedly felt the same? Or was that another lie, Kouki?”_ **

_It’s not supposed to be this way. He’s not understanding anything. Why won’t be listen to me? Why won’t he believe me? Everything I told him was the truth. I missed him more than anything, but he doesn’t believe me._

**_“Sei, please stop. I—”_ **

**_“You will address me as Akashi. Only those who are close to me are allowed to call me by name. Since you are at least in the ward of one of my acquaintances, I won't expect you to address me by title. Consider yourself privileged.”_ **

_Why? Why won’t he listen? What do I have to do to get him to?_

_… I love him, but does he…_

“Are you okay, Furihata-kun?”

_How could I be okay? Sei hates me… he just…_

“Furihata-kun?”

Kouki’s eyes inched open, his sensibility departing from the dream world. It was anything but blissful, and he was thrilled to escape it for the time being. His imagination was more powerful than he gave it credit for. Yet these weren’t fictitious images, no matter how much he wished they were. They were real incidents, heart-wrenching ones, that had occurred mere hours ago. The words Akashi had spoken, the pain reflecting in those mismatched depths, everything had been undeniable.

Collecting himself, his gaze shifted across to where Kuroko was staring at him, concern flickering in his bright eyes. Where were they that there was motion and such limited space?

“Are you okay, Furihata-kun?” he repeated.

The air in his lungs snagged, eyes wildly peering around until Kouki realized it was only them. Bewildered, he looked over at Kuroko, who smiled softly.

“Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun are in another carriage. I figured you wanted to rest without any disturbances.”

Breathing a sigh, Kouki whispered, “Thank you, Kuroko-san.” It was then he saw Kuroko was staring at him strangely. “I-is something wrong?”

Kuroko blinked, snapping from his daze. “Did the ball overwhelm you, Furihata-kun?”

He watched as Kouki momentarily hesitated before the masqueraded form nodded.

Kuroko frowned. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I-it’s my fault, so please don’t blame yourself.” He noticed Kuroko’s puzzled stance. “I said I wanted to go with you.”

The duke shook his head. “I should have thought otherwise. It would have been wise if I declined the invitation. I only accepted as a favor for Akashi-kun.” He noticed Kouki flinch. “There were too many strangers there for you, and I should have thought everything through more carefully.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Kuroko-san. None of this was your fault.”

Kuroko sighed. “I don’t wish for this to happen again. Which is why I’ve come to a decision.”

Dread seeped through his veins, and Kouki knew in his heart something devastating was about to be revealed.

“Your health is more important, so therefore, we will not do these trips anymore. If I need to travel far, I will arrange for the meeting to be closer so you can stay in the manor. I won’t make you travel anymore, Furihata-kun. Not under any circumstance.”

Kouki swallowed thickly. “D… does that mean I won’t go to the palace anymore?”

There was a pause before Kuroko responded.

“Yes.” His eyes drifted to Kouki’s face, taking note in how his gaze descended. “Is that okay with you?”

Kouki quickly nodded, concealing his disappointment with a wobbly, pathetic smile.

“O-of course it is.” Obviously, his voice didn’t get the memo to steady itself. “I... j-just hope it doesn’t become a problem for you since you always travel, Kuroko-san.”

“Thank you for that, but I am more concerned for you. It will be no bother to have to rearrange everything.”

His heart clenched, his hands trembling. “B-but what about the place by the palace? Isn’t that too far to change?”

Kuroko once more gazed at him strangely.

“It might take a bit, but I will see that it works out in my favor.” He then sighed, offering a crooked smile. “I know you have recently liked seeing new places, Furihata-kun, but I feel we might have moved too fast. This ball showed me that.”

 _No,_ Kouki wanted to say. It wasn’t the ball that caused the panic attack.

“I hope you understand that I am doing this so you feel more comfortable and secure.”

Kouki repressed the growing queasiness.

“N-no. I understand.”

“We will go places around here if you want. But I prefer to get you adjusted to the crowds by the manor first before we try much larger ones.”

Words staggered, and Kouki could only nod in silent agreement. He should have expected this, but not this way. This was now sealing off any access he had to Akashi, any communication and any lingering hope.

 _But he wants nothing to do with you, anyway_.

Kuroko reached across for his hand. “Everything will be okay, Furihata-kun.”

 _Not everything_.

“I know,” he whispered, wanting to do nothing but end this discussion, “I’m going to take another nap, Kuroko-san. I’m still really tired.”

Kuroko smiled. “Sleep well. I will wake you when we are home.”

“Thank you, Kuroko-san.”

Leaning to the side, Kouki once more encountered the cool window. Eyes sliding closed, he tried to ease his mind. Truthfully, he wasn’t tired, but the pretense was better than risking another breakdown in front of Kuroko. There would be absolutely no excuse for this one. For a reason Kuroko wasn’t aware of, and he wasn’t about to reveal that.

But what was he really upset about? Humiliation, the guilt?

The fact that was undeniably his last time with Akashi?

Sensing his eyes begin to burn, he rushed to thumb away the tears. He wasn’t going to do this. Not now. Kouki wasn’t going to cry in front of him. The duke was already concerned due to his little episode at the ball, and that made Kouki feel horrible enough. He would plaster on the largest smile his teeth could endure, and walk on as though nothing happened.

With a quiet sigh, Kouki willed the negative portion of his mind into a cage. Which was a complicated task, considering the endless pool of disappointment it was harboring. He needed to get a hold of himself, somehow, and figure out what to do. There had to be a solution, didn’t there? Everything was supposed to have one, no matter how futile it may have seemed.

His mother had always told him what was meant to be would come in the end. No matter how bleak the situation was, it would somehow solve itself.

But what if it wasn’t meant to be?

He and Akashi had different, completely diverse lives from the start, continued to walk their own paths. What if this were the gods’ way of saying it was meant to stay that way?

Even if they loved one another.

… Or at least he did Akashi.

Unbeknownst to him, Kuroko was monitoring from across, large eyes trained on his still form.

Enforcing the brakes on far excursions had clearly induced waves. He could see that in Furihata’s features. But he had meant what he said. This wasn’t a punishment, nor was it due to his confrontation with Akashi. Something in the palace had ruffled the masqueraded boy’s already skittish manner. And while Kuroko had a hunch to what it was, it wasn’t his place to address it.

There were countless questions, so many answers he was seeking. Ever since his discussion with Akashi, and all that he revealed, Kuroko had a question that surpassed the others. One he wanted the answer to more than anything.

Why. Why had Furihata hidden what he and Akashi were from him? About their past, that Kuroko bringing him to the palace wasn’t the first time they met? What occurred during his visit, and his and Akashi’s reunion? Why was he hiding this all from him? Being reluctant to explain his past to Akashi was one matter, but he was perplexed about anything else.

The subject was a delicate one, and he didn’t want to overwhelm him after everything else he had recently endured. Now was not the moment. When the time was right, he would confront Furihata and learn the entire story.

And hopefully dissolve his sadness once and for all.

* * *

Alone in his room, Kouki took in the pleasure of solitude. Completely grateful that he still appeared a bit peaked from the whole ordeal, he used it to his advantage to retire early. Kuroko hadn’t questioned otherwise. He merely assisted him to his room, saying he wouldn’t disturb him, but to come find him if he needed anything.

Being on the verge of another breakdown, that was exactly what he required.

Securing the door, Kouki dove into bed. His arms wound around the pillow, fingers clenching as he buried his face in the soft material and unleashed all his sorrow into it. The tears fell freely now. Grief, guilt, the loss. There were too many emotions to try to comprehend which he was undergoing at the given moment.

It was déja vu all over again.

His tears only doubled as he recalled the pain reflecting in Akashi’s eyes. Behind that cool demeanor, was a broken man, and he had been the entire cause. It completely devastated him to know Akashi thought he had discarded their bond, that he didn’t feel the exact same he did, how he wasn’t aware that this was tearing him apart just as much as it was him.

If only he knew how he yearned for him, especially at night when all was quiet and still. That Akashi inhabited each and every one of his dreams, so vivid he thought many times that they were real, and Akashi was there beside him. Only to awaken to the heartbreak of reality.

Oh, how he wanted to tell him he loved him as he declared he did, that more than anything he wanted to be with him. But that was hindered by the role Akashi possessed. With Kouki being in his presence, it would only enhance his sleep deprivation, would have the council berate him again and again.

Kouki knew Akashi didn’t care, that was obvious, but he did. The emperor was far too young to allow his health to deteriorate. Being in that position was strenuous enough. Having to care for him on top of that was practically overwhelming.

So then, now that he had sorted through his thoughts, was he being selfish? Or was he doing this more for Akashi’s welfare?

He was certain if he ever told Akashi this, he would completely ignore the whole matter. Which was why it was for the better for them to remain separated. This notion had repeated itself countless times in his head. But now the problem was… it was too difficult to stay away, and more and more, Kouki was sadly realizing that.

When a chance to be somehow near him emerged, Kouki had jumped at it. It was becoming harder not to, and the yearning to be by Akashi was flourishing with each passing breath.

Aside from that major barrier, his mid-childhood was another plight. A massive one. He knew Akashi longed to know the story, that much Kouki was aware of. Trust wasn’t the issue in this, but he knew that no matter what Akashi said, he would never look at him the same way again after he discovered the truth. Not how he did now, as this flawless gem that had never been touched.

If only he knew just how many times he _had_ been.

The emperor was breathtaking, chiseled beyond perfection. Compared to him, he was dirt, not even close to what Akashi saw him as, and to be honest, Kouki wasn’t sure why he even did.

Choking back another sob, he hugged the pillow tighter. Why did fate have to be so malicious? What had he ever done to deserve such a life? And when he finally obtained the correct path, the light that protected him, it was taken away in the cruelest of ways.

Kouki froze. _No_ , that wasn’t all true.

He had Kuroko, which he was thankful for every day. That had been his light from the start, and Kouki couldn’t have been any more grateful.

 _This was one part fate wasn’t going to ruin_ , he thought as his eyes became heavier. He had already dealt with one great loss after the other, and he wasn’t going to lose this. Come hell or high water, he wouldn’t allow anything to separate him from Kuroko.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A soft knock roused him from his dreamless slumber hours later.

Lifting his head, Kouki blinked away the sleep-sand, attempting to fathom his surroundings. With a yawn, he waited as the lingering lethargy dissipated before staring down at the black smudge on the pillow. He cringed and stripped the case, tossing it in the basket next to his vanity, making a mental note to apologize to Kuroko later.

Slowly approaching the door, Kouki caught sight of his botched reflection. He stared in horror at his dismantling disguise, his gaze shifting back to the door when another knock resounded.

“W-who is it?”

It couldn’t be Kuroko since he already informed him he wouldn’t disturb him. Unless he became worried, which he tended to do.

“It’s me, Kiku-chan!” a bouncy voice echoed against the wood, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Kouki could swear he heard Kuroko heave an annoyed sigh somewhere out in the hallway.

“N-no, Momoi-san. But please give me a moment.”

Quickly, he rushed to cleanse his face, nearly tripping over his numerous, lengthy skirts on the way to and back from the washroom. Carefully he reapplied his makeup, trying to ease his trembling hands, and fiddled with the false tresses to conceal any imperfections and suspicions.

“H-hi there, Momoi-san,” he greeted once she was granted access.

“You and Tetsu-kun are home really early.” She was right to the point, cocking her head to the side. “Is everything all right?”

Kouki swallowed. “Um, y-yeah. It just wasn’t everything I thought. I-I got really bored.”

“That’s a shame.” Momoi frowned. “I thought it would have been more exciting.”

He nodded.

“Did Akashi find what he was looking for?”

Kouki froze.

Satsuki’s brows rose. “Kiku-chan? Are you okay?”

His laugh was tight. “I-I’m not sure if he did. He was… really busy, s-so he didn’t have time to talk.”

Providing Kuroko never relayed anything back to her about that day, or he would appear either very delusional or a total liar.

“Oh.” Momoi sounded disappointed for some reason. “Well, I hope it works out for him.”

“Y-yeah,” Kouki muttered, “Me, too.”

Somehow, she must have sensed the topic was creating a somber atmosphere.

“Was the dress all right?”

Kouki snapped from his daze. “Oh! Yes, it was! It was wonderful.” He wandered to his closet and retrieved the hanger. “Thank you so much for letting me borrow it, Momoi-san.”

She peered at the dress in his hands, and Kouki instantly panicked.

“I-I didn’t spill or get anything on it.”

Satsuki giggled. “I know that, silly. I’m just wondering why you’re handing it to me.”

“Because it’s yours.” Kouki was puzzled. “R-right?”

She shook her head. “It’s yours, Kiku-chan. Take good care of it for me.”

“I-I can’t accept this!” Where had he heard this before? “This is really expensive!”

“Sure you can! Besides, it probably fits you much better. It looked so much nicer on you, even without you trying it on.”

Words of gratitude couldn’t form quick enough. His gaze moved to her glowing face, wondering if he could embrace her. Would she allow it, and would it feel odd since he couldn’t remember the last time it was someone other than Kuroko or… Akashi?

“Momoi-san, I—”

There was another knock on the door. Overlooking the simple dilemma, Kouki unthinkingly granted access, or to smile when he saw who had entered.

However, they weren’t smiling in return.

“Kiku-san,” Kuroko sighed, a tad annoyed, “I see Momoi-san has awoken you. It is time for dinner, anyway. Momoi-san, you are welcome to stay if you wish.”

He didn’t need to ask twice.

“Of course I will, Tetsu-kun!” She grabbed Kouki’s hand and dragged him toward the exit before he could utter another word. “Let’s go, Kiku-chan!”

Kuroko could only shake his head as he followed the two down the long hallways. While he had wanted Furihata to rest for the remainder of the night, he was glad to see him up and about in better spirits. Momoi did always have the ability to twist someone’s frown around, and that was exactly what Furihata needed.

At least for now, everything seemed more settled. Hopefully that would last.

Though, he was almost certain it wouldn’t.

* * *

Foul weather monopolized the remainder of the week, preventing him from visiting the gardens. The rain seemed to wickedly mimic his heartache. Each time the pessimistic section of his mind regained control and the terrible thoughts and memories resurfaced, it only rained harder, only grew darker.

Kouki wanted to laugh at the sheer irony. It was raining the day he last saw Akashi as well. Sign after sign kept piling up. The gods had a vicious sense of humor, or it was a horrible coincidence. Either way, both routes took delight in playing on his misery and stringing him along for their enjoyment.

He had spent the days wrapped in a blanket, gazing longingly out the patio doors as the rain continued to tumble down. All he had wanted when they returned, was to spend time in his garden and peacefully read. But he wasn’t even allowed that. At least some of his misery might have diminished, as being out there always brought him a sense of comfort.

Today, it had subsided, though the clamminess lingered. The clouds above were still hazy, and he was sure the rain would return at any given moment. While it wasn’t, he was going to take advantage of the break in the rotten weather and tend to his flowers. Even if it was just for a brief period.

His gloves on, Kouki headed toward the outside. The air was thick, beads of sweat instantly forming on his skin, but it was a minor inconvenience.

Easing down onto the ledge, he went to work, tending to each one. Although he was positive they had been well nourished by the heavy rain, it did disrupt the soil they were grounded in. Most had their roots loosened from their settlement, and if they stayed this way, they would unquestionably die.

As he nursed blossom after blossom, his concentration was snagged by a bright red one. Upon inspection, he noticed the center was yellow, the flecks trailing into the petals to blend with the crimson hue. The flower was dazzling enough that it made him pause in his treks to stare at it. It seemed to be one, if not the only, to dodge the damage from the chaotic weather.

Just like a certain redhead.

Akashi could endure pure and utter hell. No sleep for days, countless hours of work, dealing with newcomer after newcomer, and he could still emerge absolutely flawless, as though nothing had disturbed him.

Kouki dropped his tools.

“What are you doing,” he lectured himself, “Why are you hurting yourself like this?”

Grudgingly, he averted his gaze to resume tending to the ones beside it. But no matter how hard he tried, his eyes kept wandering back to the flower that was victorious within the bunch. Even with the light breeze beginning to intrude, it stood strong amongst the others. Petals swayed gently in the wind as though it wasn’t the least bit disturbed.

He laughed, almost bitterly. “Why did I plant these stupid colors in the first place?”

Crouching in front of it, he shed his gloves to trail his fingers along the petals. Despite who it reminded him of, the silkiness of them brought a wonderful feeling. He was finally outside, was able to be where he desired the most. It was kind of pitiful, in a way, that he was depending on flowers to diminish his sadness. And one of those flowers just happened to make it worse.

“I’m really getting upset over a flower, aren’t I.”

Yet, he stayed there, caring for it more than the others. Within seconds, he knew he had lost this battle, and quite frankly, he didn’t mind. If a flower that resembled what he had yearned for was the closest he had, then he would gratefully take it. No matter how crazy it might have sounded.

Until the weather started to be cruel again, that was.

Droplets began to tumble from the sky, landing softly on his head. But Kouki paid it no mind, nor did he move from his fixed location. If he could stay for a few more moments, then he would be more than willing to fight the rain.

“You shouldn’t be out here now,” a voice tsked, nearly stopping his heart, “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

Reluctantly, he turned to the side to see the emperor kneeling beside him. Kouki knew he wasn’t there, but a false image was enough. He would indulge in the fantasy and allow his imagination brief control for the time being. Even if it would hurt more than comfort him.

“I’ll go in soon,” he mumbled, not sure if he was talking to himself or the illusion.

He returned to gazing at the flower, ignoring when the skies swelled and crashes echoed from above.

“Kouki,” the illusion warned, but he merely shrugged it off.

“Shut up,” he whispered, “You’re not real.”

His heartbreak was relentless, the cracks so severe he was beginning to converse with illusions. Mirages he was now struggling to hold onto, found himself hoping they would appear so he wouldn’t feel as alone. How much longer would be able to keep this pretense up before he broke down completely?

“Kiku-chan!” Someone was rushing toward him. “Kiku-chan! Get inside! You’re going to get wet!”

Something was then draped around his shoulders. Kuroko had placed a blanket around him, staring at him with soft eyes, the worry reflecting within those sky-blue depths. Momoi was behind him, her hands rushing to assure the blanket was concealing him as much as it could from the rain.

Kouki broke from his trance, and allowed them to guide him back inside. He tried not to shiver when the glow from the manor bathed him in its warmth. Though the rain wasn’t exactly cold, combining it with his sorrow was enough to bring his temperature down, and he began to tremble.

“What were you doing out there, Kiku-chan? You could get sick!”

“Momoi-san.” Kuroko frowned at the shivering. “Please go and get me another blanket.”

She huffed at being ignored, but then headed toward the hallway, calling out to Aomine for assistance. Slowly she was learning more of the manor, but still was clueless on to some locations. Then again, Aomine probably wouldn’t be much help either, and he had lived there for years.

Once alone, Kuroko returned his attention to him.

“Furihata-kun.”

Kouki sniffled. “I-I’m sorry. I really wanted to be around the flowers today. It’s been raining for days, and I haven’t been able to.”

Aware that was most likely not the reason, Kuroko offered him a small smile.

“Don’t worry. It will stop soon, and then you will be able to visit your flowers.”

Kouki shivered. “I’m sorry, Kuroko-san. I shouldn’t have been out there.”

“There is no need to apologize. I only want to keep you from becoming ill.”

Kouki only nodded.

Subjectively edging a step back, Tetsuya studied the frail form. Furihata was in ruins, the wide, hazel eyes swollen and teary, peering down at the floor rather than directly ahead. He continued to tremble, but Kuroko soon realized it wasn’t all from caught in the rain, since it was only a light drizzle when he and Momoi rescued him. No, something was amiss, and while he had a hunch what it was, he wasn’t sure how to approach the topic.

Especially since Furihata was clueless about the great deal of information he had learned.

“Furihata-kun,” his lips were moving by their own accord, “are you—”

“Oi, Tetsu! What blankets did you want? There’s too many!”

Kuroko sighed as Aomine came down the hall. Though it was impossible to see his face, the obnoxious voice betrayed its owner. In his arms were numerous quilts, stacked in a messy pile, some having already fallen to the ground and trailed behind. More only tumbled from his grasp as he continued to venture down the hallway. A few paces away, Momoi trudged along, a cup of tea balanced in her hands.

“This will warm you up in no time, Kiku-chan.” She turned to Aomine with a scowl. “Dai-chan, I told you to pick only one! You’re so dense sometimes!”

“Sometimes?” A scoff, and Kagami appeared around the corner. “How about always?”

The remainder of the blankets fell to the floor, and war began.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

Satsuki rolled her eyes and collected one of the blankets, circling around the two until she reached Kouki.

“Here, Kiku-chan. I hope I made it all right.”

Kouki took the cup with a smile. “Thank you, Momoi-san.”

“Do you still need the blanket?” She noticed he was still shivering. “I think you do.”

Becoming weary of the pointless and juvenile fight, Kuroko made his way toward the two servants. He listened for a moment as Kagami and Aomine bickered about who knew what, but he was sure it wasn’t anything relevant. As every quarrel they engaged in was. Without warning, he reached up to each of their ears, tugging harshly and quickly. Two yelps instantly followed, the two servants both grabbing onto their injured ear.

“Kuroko!”

“Tetsu, what the hell?!”

He stepped back. “You both deserved it.”

While the three were preoccupied, Momoi turned her attention back to the masqueraded boy.

“How come you were out in the rain, Kiku-chan?”

Now a bit calm, Kouki laughed softly.

“I really missed my flowers. The rain hasn’t stopped for almost a week now.”

Momoi sighed. “It has been really gross lately. There’s almost no sunshine most days.” She paused at a thought. “Wait a second. You said you want to see flowers, right?”

Kouki nodded.

“I might have just the thing.” She glimpsed at the three men still in discussion. “Wait right here. I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

Kuroko leaned back heavily in his chair, brows furrowed in concentration as he continued to scribble onto the papers before him. It seemed whatever option he chose, they weren’t coinciding with what he preferred. For him to rearrange each of his meetings, both parties would have to agree, and with the current path, none of his strategies were fusing into that manner.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he crumbled another paper and tossed it in the wastebasket. Why was he so intent on coming to terms by himself? Surely the men he gathered with would understand his predicament. Then again, some were nearly ripened ages. It would be unfair on his part to have them make the trip when it was probably more of a chore to them instead of sealing business.

Perhaps he could still attend ones there, and have Furihata by his side always instead of relocating him.

“No, that won’t work.”

He had considered having Furihata stay with Momoi, but that still involved him being away for a certain period. That was the problem he was trying to avoid, to make sure the masqueraded boy wasn’t far from his presence for exceeding lengths of time. After all, they were in the same building, a few paces apart, and look what had occurred then.

And yet, Furihata’s reaction to his decision was a puzzling one. Kuroko had observed each perturbed movement. The blanched visage, the way his jaw clenched, how his gaze roved downward. Restricting how far they traveled in general hadn’t caused the behavior. No. It was when he had established they would no longer be visiting the location furthest of all.

The palace.

Now that he was aware of what had been evolving after all this time, Kuroko was certain the palace itself wasn’t the cause. More so, who lived within it.

Maybe what he was doing was meaningless, and leaving Furihata there when needed was what the masqueraded boy wanted. Or did he want it to be a permanent arrangement? Kuroko didn’t know, and the only one who had that answer was Furihata himself. Only he would be able to make that decision for both him and Akashi.

Speaking of Akashi, he was still clueless on why Furihata was concealing his relationship with the emperor from him. Not only that, but what they had been since children. Why had he never been informed of that part of his life when he knew every single tale about him? Including the worst pieces that Furihata refused to acknowledge.

It was a mystery that had been bothering Kuroko upon learning the truth.

The entrance to the manor then eased open and closed, the sounds of footsteps filling the once quiet halls. Ah, they were back.

For the past few hours, the manor had been still, aside from Kagami and Aomine bickering every now and then. Momoi had discovered an indoor location that Kouki had become enamored with, and they had gone there just about every chance they got for the past few days. And given how foul the weather was, it was exactly what Kouki needed. It brought a smile to his face, which is what Kuroko had longed to see after so many mishaps.

But would it be enough, was the critical question.

Worries tossed aside for the time being, he headed out of his office to greet them. Sure enough, Furihata was glowing, a small smile on his face. That smile only broadened when Kuroko approached him, which he easily returned when they were close enough.

“I see the trip went well again.”

Kouki nodded. “It was. They were so pretty, Kuroko-san.”

He peered around when he saw no one was behind Kouki.

“Momoi-san has left already?”

Kouki nodded. “She dropped me off because she said she had to do something back home.”

“Were you okay with that?”

Kouki waved his hand. “It was right in front, so it didn’t bother me as much.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

He saw the papers Kuroko hadn’t realized he had still been holding.

“Were you doing something, Kuroko-san? I hope I didn’t interrupt.”

Kuroko glanced down. “I was sorting through files. I am trying to rearrange everything as best as I can.”

As expected, Kouki’s posture stiffened, his eyes once more roving until they shakily connected with his own.

“Oh… how is that working out?”

Kuroko laughed softly.

“It’s not, but there is no need to worry. I will figure it out.”

There was a pause.

“You don’t have, to Kuroko-san. I don’t want you going through all this trouble for me.”

He had fully expected this to be the response.

“There’s no trouble at all. I only want to make sure you are comfortable when these concerns arise.”

Kouki hesitantly nodded, his eyes circling the hallway, fists clenched at his side.

“Furihata-kun.”

He instantly snapped from his rigid state. “Y-yes, Kuroko-san?”

“Are you happy being here?”

By his startled movements, Kuroko knew the question had caught him entirely off guard. His arms had locked, bottom lip quivering, and hazel eyes staring back at him with complete and utter shock.

“O-of course, Kuroko-san! I’m the happiest I’ve ever been when I’m with you.”

Kuroko was aware that wasn’t the exact truth.

“I’m pleased to know.”

There was then an awkward silence folding between them, Kouki once more gazing at the carpet. Kuroko didn’t wish to push the subject any, not when the masqueraded boy had returned elated about his trip. No, he wasn’t going to spoil something precious that was rare to see nowadays. Especially given the hidden circumstances.

“I suppose I should get back to figuring this out.” He didn’t want to stress the situation any more than it already was. “Please don’t hesitate to find me if you should need anything.”

Receiving a short nod, he then headed back to his office, numerous questions bobbing through his mind. It wasn’t the rearranging of his meetings that now distracted him. But what he was going to do about the current situation, the one that was standing amongst everything else.

He couldn’t straight out inform Furihata about their meeting. Not only had Akashi broken his promise by revealing he knew his true identity, but now he was hiding it from him as well. Both of them had wronged him, and Kuroko knew this would upset Furihata more than anything.

And yet, here he was, trying to conceal his misery, his longing. The longing that Kuroko knew was from being separated from Akashi. It was a double edged sword, and Kuroko had no idea on how to end the suffering without one end sticking someone in the back.

So he would wait, wait until the time was right, and then slowly find a way to break it to Furihata.

He could only hope the outcome wouldn’t be as disastrous as the meeting with Akashi had been.

Or worse.

Returning his gaze to the pile, he released a strained sigh as he uncovered a scroll from months back.

“I wonder how many letters Furihata-kun will sneak in this time.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fourteen down, four to go. Of this part, that is.  
> Sorry for any typos. I have a lot to write nowadays, and my brain isn't functioning the way it should.


	15. Chapter 15

 

To Kuroko’s surprise, there had been no requests for any letter.

Even after a week elapsed, Furihata hadn’t leapt at a veiled opportunity to express his gratitude to Akashi for the invite. Perhaps he was still ashamed about the incident and chose to remain tight-lipped about it.

Or there was some underlying reason, something which had prompted his nervous collapse that Kuroko didn't know.

But that the emperor somehow was aware of.

Either way, it was in Furihata’s nature to apologize. Despite him not being at fault to begin with… that was the type of behavior he had become accustomed to back when he was…

Kuroko shook his head, swapping the grisly reflection for the present. The ball hadn’t been to assemble bridal candidates for Akashi. No, everything had been fabricated, a mere pretense to lure Furihata to him. Apparently, Akashi had decided years ago who deserved that title.

And yet, everything had been hidden from him.

There was one rationalization, the only logical conclusion that Kuroko could come up with. Akashi had taken a vow of silence. Exactly as he had done for Furihata. But given the circumstances, that evening, Akashi’s tolerance had reached its limit. His sanity ruptured, and dispersed him in such turmoil that it caused him to betray that promise.

He himself had come close to breaking his own.

While Kuroko knew both promises were important, abandoning his to Furihata would be treacherous. Safeguarding Furihata’s horrid past was more crucial than concealing a relationship with the emperor, so why hadn’t Furihata spoke of his connection with Akashi? Was he worried he’d be angry if he chose to reside with Akashi instead? Of course he’d miss his presence, yes, but Kuroko wanted what granted Furihata the utmost happiness. If that was his decision, Kuroko would not stand in the way of making it happen.

It was perplexing to him why Furihata wished to suffer in secrecy. Repressing his trauma was crumbling his already weakened mentality, and would only cause further damage the longer the repression went on.

Abolishing visits to Akashi would complicate matters. Kuroko had seen the consequences of them being separated the first time around. How Furihata attempted to stay in contact with Akashi without either party knowing. His expression when Kuroko had declared they would no longer be traveling that far. The way his eyes had lowered, his lips trembling yet discreetly nudging for unattainable answers.

It was possible that maybe Furihata himself was torn. Kuroko had witnessed that uncertainty the day he had received the invite. At first, Furihata had declined, though he seemed skeptical about his own decision. It wasn’t until the final moment, when Kuroko was departing, that he stated he wanted to go.

The duke sighed heavily and tapped his pen against the desk.

If they were as bonded as Akashi claimed they were, why didn’t Furihata wish to stay? Unless the reason was related to the grim backstory, the one Kuroko continued to guard, the one Akashi had tried to pry from him. He was aware that Furihata refused to reveal said tragedy, as Akashi had stated. And while that made perfect sense, something in this puzzle was still lacking. What it was, he didn’t know, but it was beginning to drive him mad.

“Watch this, Kiku-chan!”

Kuroko froze in mid-thought to peer out one of the large windows.

Momoi and Furihata were frolicking in the gardens, giggling over nonsense, and admiring the numerous blossoms sprouting from the ground. Finally, the weather had graced them with a pleasant day after what was beginning to feel like an endless stream of gloomy ones. Although the temperature didn’t seem warm, and there was a slight chill in the air, at least Furihata could enjoy the sunshine once again.

As the days vanished, he seemed to be faring better. He had his somber moments, but he quickly masked those with a smile. Kuroko chose not to comment. Maybe he could see how everything progressed, and if they returned to how they once were, he wouldn’t have to inform Furihata about his discussion with Akashi.

Kuroko paused at the ridiculous thought. That would never happen.

But he could hope it would.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he entered the gardens, he realized Furihata was alone.

Kuroko chose to remain on the patio stairs, quietly observing the hunched form. Furihata was kneeling beside the same radiant flower. Once more, he had discarded the other blossoms to grant it his complete attention. At times, Kuroko noticed he would smile sadly, his fingers stroking the silky petals.

It was such a fragile sight that he didn’t wish to interrupt.

“Did Momoi-san leave?” Kuroko spoke at length.

Kouki snapped from his daze. “A-ah, no. She had to excuse herself for something. She said she’d be back in a bit.”

The strained words only enhanced his concern as Kuroko descended the steps. Slowly he approached the ledge where Furihata was stationed, and knelt beside him. Craning his head to the side, he noticed Furihata’s eyes were yet again glued to the large flower that was swaying in the breeze.

“That is a very beautiful flower, Furihata-kun.”

A smile, an actual genuine and not bleak one, twitched onto his lips.

“I… I think it’s the prettiest one in the garden.”

Kuroko stared down at the scattered soil as an uncomfortable silence enveloped them. Twiddling his thumbs, he rummaged through his mind for another opening remark, any topic that would cease the pressure of the situation.

However, maybe this was the moment, the exact time he should reveal his confrontation with Akashi. Reveal the delicate information he was now aware of, and what he knew Furihata was concealing from him. Perhaps then his suffering would diminish, and he would no longer have to endure this pretense. He would release him to Akashi, gifting him the ultimate happiness he deserved.

But what if that wasn’t the case? What if that wasn’t what Furihata desired?

Either way, this taxing silence needed to subside.

“Furihata-kun,” he nudged softly, “I —”

“Oi, Tetsu! You got a letter!”

Strangely enough, those were the enchanted words that freed Furihata from his trance. The smoldering gaze seared into his back as he accepted the letter from the servant. Furihata was now at full height, rocking on his heels as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It should have been obvious it wasn’t from the one he was anticipating, since it lacked the royal crest that usually sealed the letter, but he still waited.

Reading the print, the duke frowned at what he uncovered.

“Kuroko-san?”

He peered over the scroll to see widened hazel eyes.

“Ah, it’s nothing of concern. I was invited to a play by a few of the men I do business with.”

Furihata paused in his rocking.

“Is it far away? Like… by the…palace?”

He should have expected this.

“It is right in town,” he answered, “I am not sure if I am going to go. I would be gone for only a few hours, but…”

A hand rested on the edge of the scroll.

“I’ll be okay, Kuroko-san. You don’t have to worry.”

He would have accepted the soothing caress, if it wasn’t for the fact Furihata’s expression didn’t match it.

“If you wish, you may go with me.”

Furihata blinked, seeming to be mulling over the suggestion.

“I… I’ve never been to a play. Are they fun, Kuroko-san?”

“Of course they are!”

Kuroko sighed as Momoi rushed back into the gardens.

“Yes, they are, and Momoi-san can accompany us if she wants.”

“Of course I will, Tetsu-kun!” She instantly snatched Kouki’s hand. “Let’s go, Kiku-chan! We have a lot to do before it!”

Massaging his temples, Kuroko shook his head. At least the awkward silence was gone for now, and maybe the day out would appease Furihata.But he had lost his chance once more to confront him about important matters. Perhaps it could wait, for how long, Kuroko didn’t know… but for now, it was fine. He was determined to believe that the right moment would come.

“Momoi-san,” he called, knowing it was pointless to try to waylay her, “The play is not for another two weeks.”

* * *

Afternoons were usually active with handling errands for Kuroko, to where sometimes they would extend into nightfall. Yet, for some odd reason, today had been a quiet one. Not once had Kuroko nudged at them to request their services. Aomine wasn’t complaining, since it granted them a bit of spare time. But it was rather strange, considering he was almost positive Kuroko was a closet sadist with some of the tasks he assigned to them.

Especially him.

He tossed the recollection aside. Why was he even harping on this? At the moment, there was something more important than wondering why he wasn’t being dragged all over town. And if he didn’t ease that _something_ now, he was sure his sanity would dissolve when his libido skyrocketed.

Refocusing, he continued dressing Kagami’s tanned planes with his lips and teeth, imprinting numerous, obscure places. Aside from one conspicuous location, that he was clueless on how a faint mark somehow landed there.

Aomine shrugged. He would deal with the consequences later.

Neck craned for easy exposure, Kagami’s eyes suddenly shot open. Thick brows furrowed, he peered around the room curiously.

Aomine frowned at the abrupt behavior.

“If you don’t want to fool around, then say it. You’re wasting my damn time if you’re not going to be into it.”

Kagami only heightened his annoyance when he rose from the pillows. Ignoring his lover’s disapproval, his eyes moved from side to side as he sniffed at the air cautiously.

“Something reeks.”

Aomine scoffed. “Don’t look at me. I just showered. You know that already, since you were there.”

His cheeks tinged. “Not you, you idiot!” Kagami inhaled again. “Something is burning.”

“What do you mean burning?”

“How the hell do you not smell that?”

Aomine was now upright. “You think Tetsu forgot to check a fireplace?”

“It doesn’t smell like wood. Besides, Kuroko isn’t forgetful.”

Shrugging, Aomine resumed his lax position. “I’m sure Tetsu would come and get us if it was an emergency.” His fingers crept on Taiga’s arm. “Now, can we quit it with the damn interruptions? I’m about to burst here.”

Kagami rolled his eyes. “You really think with the wrong head.”

“Not my fault.”

They settled back into the sheets, Aomine’s lips once more melding with his. Kagami tried to bury the fragrance into the back of his mind and concentrate on the delightful tingles sweeping across his skin. There was something oddly familiar about it, but it was difficult to pinpoint exactly. Yet, he was absolutely certain this was something he had dealt with before.

His eyes slid closed, trying to enjoy the sensations his lover’s lips were providing. And he would have done so, if it wasn’t for Aomine suddenly shooting forward, smashing into his chin and probably causing major trauma to his dental work.

 “Oh, fuck! Satsuki is cooking!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The kitchen was clouded with layers of smoke, steam emitting from the crusty lump sitting on the stove. Kouki peered over at the burnt mountain, eyes studying the blackened top before gliding back to the soiled tray. His hands waved around him, fanning aside the smoke as it continued to encase the large area.

“Er, Momoi-san…”

Satsuki stared down at the charred object.

“I guess I cooked them a bitttt too much,” she giggled.

Kouki’s laugh was tense. “Ah, maybe a little…”

That was a complete farce, and if he had to be honest, a lie. What was supposed to be an exquisite pastry that Momoi had dubbed her favorite cupcakes, had resulted in the entire opposite. In fact, there was nothing exquisite about it. She had apparently filled each pan to the brim, and during the baking process, the batter had overflowed and merged into one giant mass. Aside from that, she had failed to keep track of the time. Those twenty minutes, became an hour, and now they were left with… _this_.

Although Kouki didn’t want to seem impolite, he was desperately hoping he wouldn’t have to sample it.

“Maybe if I let them cool for a while.”

No, even that wouldn’t fix this disaster. If anything, it would make it worse.

The sound of rushing footsteps echoed behind them, a worried voice calling amidst the fog.

“I’m here, Kuroko-san.” Kouki tried to direct him through the murkiness. “Over by the hanging pots.”

Cloaking his mouth to prevent smoke inhalation, Kuroko managed to bypass one layer, instantly taking hold of Kouki’s arm.

“Momoi-san, what is all of this?” he sighed, “You know Kagami-kun prepares the meals.”

There was a clunk as the tray was removed from the counter.

“Oh, I know that, Tetsu-kun. I was making some snacks for the theater when we go!”

“That is very kind of you, Momoi-san.” Kouki was positive Kuroko’s expression didn’t match his tone; he was probably thankful for the smoke. “But they will have those there.”

Another clang.

“I wanted Kiku-chan to try my special cupcakes!”

Kouki swallowed thickly.

“Kiku-san appreciates your hard work.” Kouki quickly nodded. “But there is no need.”

The masqueraded boy smiled thinly. “Yes. Thank you, Momoi-san.”

_Please don’t make me try them!_

“I will clean this up.” By now, most of the smoke had cleared, and Kuroko was visible. “Kiku-san, why don’t you and Momoi-san go and decide what you are going to wear?”

Kouki was more than eager to accept the suggestion.

“A-ah, sure. Momoi-san, would you like to?”

“But the cupcakes! They should be cooled by now.”

And would distort your stomach until it was a convulsing volcano. If you were able to somehow bite into them without destroying your teeth.

“I will take care of it,” Kuroko’s persuading resumed, “You should go decide on what you wish to wear.”

Momoi tapped her chin. “We can go shopping! If you want to, Kiku-chan. Before it gets too dark out. We can take the carriage, so we won’t have to walk. If Tetsu-kun doesn’t mind.”

“If Kiku-san is fine with it, then yes, you can take the carriage.”

As long as he didn’t have to touch those _cupcakes_ , Kouki was fine with anything.

“Ah, yes. I would love to go.”

“Great!” Momoi latched onto his hand. “See you later, Tetsu-kun!”

Kuroko waited until they had disappeared from his view before tending to the wreckage. Maybe this one would be easier to peel off the stove, unlike the last time Momoi volunteered to cook. That mess had taken the rest of the evening to clear and restore order in the kitchen. Not to mention, there was the matter of replacing the counter top, along with a few of the pans.

Glancing to the side, he noticed the box of matches, and quickly pocketed them. Kagami would have to find another location to assure they were hidden. They had thought the previous spot had served them well, but somehow, Momoi was able to recover them.

Burying them in the bottom of the garden was probably the safest option.

Or Aomine’s closet.

Either worked.

* * *

Readjusting his hat, Kouki assured there were no rifts in his disguise. The headpiece was dainty, with its sky colored ribbon flowing behind. Despite its lightweight structure, it was enough to disturb the crown of the false tresses every now and then. He had preferred it, though, donning a mask to conceal himself the utmost. Kouki knew Kuroko would be at his side the entire time, but there were still numerous strangers that were surrounding him.

Momoi had parroted his evening selection, sporting a wider headpiece than his. Although she had entwined a small flower into the ribbon of his, since she knew of his fondness for the blossoms, she had surprisingly kept her own under decorated.

Countless hours of browsing had gifted him a simple gown, consisting of the adored color combination of sky blue and white, yet appropriate for the occasion. There was a slight swell, creating a small puff in the long skirts, but minuscule enough that he didn’t have to fear tripping over them. Momoi, however, had chosen a fancier assemble, the long skirts more prominent than his. Kouki didn’t harp on it. After all, she was the one who had been to these plays before, and not him.

The company with Kuroko was polite and kept to themselves. For the most part. Every now and then, they would discuss what Kouki assumed were business deals. He chose to stay off to the side, though he found it difficult to detach his grip on Kuroko’s arm.

How pitiful he was behaving. The last Kuroko probably wanted to tolerate was him glued to his side while he was at an evening with clients. Why had he agreed to come in the first place? Kuroko had been the one to suggest it, yes, but Kouki was beginning to slowly have regrets about the acceptance.

There was then a soft tap on his spare arm. Kouki controlled his fright, turning to encounter one of Kuroko’s clients. A man, easily twenty-three or somewhere close to that, years older than them.

“May I escort you to your seat, my lady?”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Kuroko, concern molding into his features.

“Taira-san, I think Kiku-san would be more comfortable if she were to stay with me.”

“It’s okay, Kuroko-san.” He was puzzled by the words expelling from his own lips, as probably was Kuroko. “I would be honored for Taira-san to escort me.”

Kouki was horrified at the adequate amount of fibbing he had been doing as of late. Truth was, he was feeling severely uncomfortable, and the gaze the older man gave him delivered revolted shivers down his spine. He wouldn’t cause a scene, though. No, anything to assure he didn’t upset Kuroko and ruin his evening.

By how Kuroko was staring at him, he seemed to be thinking the same.

“If that is what you want,” had been Kuroko’s response, though his expression spoke the opposite, “I will be right behind you.”

Kouki could only nod, reluctantly turning to the man beside him.

“Wonderful.” The man held out his arm. “Shall we then?”

They passed through the doors, Kouki trying to steady his wobbly posture. On the vacant side, Momoi had latched onto his other arm, granting him a bit of relief. Maybe if she stayed with him at all times, it wouldn’t seem so awkward and frightening.

It was difficult not to berate himself. Why was he being this way? He had wanted to do this, to gift Kuroko a pleasant evening. That was the least he could grant him after troubling him with his depression and his moping around the manor for months.

As they took their seats, he was aware the man still had their arms linked. Kouki smiled politely, wiggling to pry his arm from the other’s grip, but it was futile.

Until Momoi had decided to pull him toward her, thus snapping the connection.

“Here, Kiku-chan.” She handed him a pair of odd looking glasses. “You’ll need these to see the play.”

He didn’t miss the irritated huff at his other side.

“T-thanks, Momoi-san.”

Satsuki’s hand clutched his, and she leaned over to whisper into his ear.

“Do you want to switch seats?”

That was probably the wisest suggestion at the moment. But he wouldn’t subject her to this misery. He had been the one to willingly capitulate, to accept the other man’s invite, and now he would be the one to see it through.

With a smile so forced, his jaw would be fractured, Kouki shook his head.

However, it apparently wasn’t only Momoi who was concerned about this troublesome setting.

“Kiku-san.” Kuroko was standing behind the chair. When had he arrived? “Are you all right over here?”

The client was quick to object.

“She’s fine, Kuroko-san,” he chuckled, “Sorry to say that I’ll be entertaining the ladies tonight.”

Kuroko didn’t respond to the witticism, nor did his bland expression shift. His gaze was locked with Kouki’s, as though awaiting his answer and not the one who had rudely done so for him.

“I’m okay, Kuroko-san,” he found himself replying, though he wished he hadn’t.

He wasn’t, and he knew that. Kouki wanted to rush over to where Kuroko was, dragging Momoi with him. But he would restrain any abrupt behavior. This evening was important to Kuroko, and he wasn’t going to be a burden.

Kuroko’s lips twitched, but the area was distorting into darkness. The signal the show was about to begin. He could hear the soft sigh, and then retreating footsteps as Kuroko returned to his seat a few chairs down.

At least now everyone would focus on the show. There would be no more salacious glances, no more words exchanged. He could put his mind at ease for those few hours, soothe his anxiety, and enjoy the play that he had come for in the first place.

As the show initiated, Kouki tried to concentrate on the plot. But even that was frustrating, considering one of the actors had vibrant, red hair. That had him wondering if Akashi ever went to the theaters, if other world leaders invited him to shows or events as they did Kuroko. Or if Akashi rejected each and every offer since he couldn’t tolerate others pestering him.

Kouki shook his head. Why did everything have to be about Akashi? It should have been obvious that Akashi was his everything, yes, but after their last meeting, Kouki was sure Akashi didn’t return those exact feelings.

If he did any.

Honestly, Kouki couldn’t blame him if that were indeed the course they were to take from now on. With everything Akashi had done for him, and here he was, still concealing pieces of his past, continuing to wound the emperor repeatedly in trying to protect himself.

Could there be…

His unsettled reverie was interrupted by something brushing against his right hip. Kouki would have assumed it was Momoi trying to gain his attention. Only Momoi would usually have tapped his shoulder, and she was sitting on his left side, not his right.

Eyes clenched shut, Kouki was elated for the darkness. He wouldn’t cry, he couldn’t. Not only would it provoke a scene, but it would completely dismantle his disguise. The façade that only one person here was aware of.

And they weren’t sitting beside him.

With those risks noted, he silently inched away. Though he knew the small movement wouldn’t allay him entirely, he was hoping the leech would grasp the hint. Perhaps this was the method of informing someone he had an interest in them. Lecherous and appalling, yes, but weren’t most of the men he had met this way? At least the ones he had the misfortune of encountering in his past.

The tactic seemed to work, for the most part, and Kouki went back to trying to focus on the play. His anxiety, however, had other motions in mind. It constantly kept nudging at him to take in Kuroko’s concern, and move his location to where the duke sat.

Kouki promptly ignored it.

Until that same pressure returned. This time against his thigh. Kouki barely had a moment to register what was happening before his body reacted by its own accord. He slid toward his left, hasty enough that he slammed into the chair’s other handle, that Momoi took notice instantly.

She took one glance at his expression, and somehow knew. Even within the darkness of the room, Kouki could see she was aware of what was transpiring.

Then she was standing, and before Kouki could blink, he was tugged forward into her seat. She dropped into his, her dress ruffling at how swiftly she was moving. Locking her arm at his side, Satsuki turned to glare at the perplexed older man.

“Try and touch her now, you pervert. I’ll make sure it’s the last time.”

 

 

There were no more interruptions for the remainder of the play after that.

 

 

 

Hours that morphed into eternity, or what felt like so, and they were once more standing within the lobby. Momoi was still glued at his side, her dark eyes shooting daggers at the man Kouki had now added onto the list of people he would avoid in the near future.

“It has been a fine evening,” one of the other men by Kuroko spoke.

The duke nodded. “Yes, it has. I am surprised by how late it is.”

“Late?” The creep had finally said something. “The night is young, Kuroko-san! Which gives me the time to discuss another deal with you.”

Kuroko sighed, seemingly annoyed. “Taira-san, we have already closed our deal. There is nothing more to discuss.”

“Oh, ho, ho, but this is about something completely different.” His gaze was on Kouki, causing him to shudder. “It’s about Lady Kiku.”

His bored expression vanished. “What about Kiku-san?”

“I can make you quite an offer. Much larger than what our deal consisted of.”

Momoi gasped, eyes widened, and Kouki could feel her grip on him tighten. An offer on him? What was that supposed to mean?

“What offer are you referring to, Taira-san?”

Yes, that was exactly what he wished to know!

It was right to the point. “Her, Kuroko-san. I want to take Kiku off your hands.”

Kouki froze. He wanted to buy him? The same way that _they_ used to? To buy him for…

“I am sorry, Taira-san.” Kuroko’s tone was calm, but his hands were trembling in restrained fury. “Kiku-san is not an object for you or anyone else to have.”

The man wasn’t swayed.

“Kuroko-san, think about what you’re saying. I could really make it your worthwhile.”

Angrily, Kuroko stomped his decorated cane.

“Enough. Kiku-san is a person. Not an item for you to display. She will remain in my care for as long as she wishes.”

He composed himself, stepping away from his company and to where Momoi and Kouki stood. After assuring Kouki wasn’t too frightened, he turned and bowed toward the other men.

“Now, I bid you all goodnight. Thank you for the evening.”

Momoi continued to glare at the leech, even after he was retreating from the theater. Once they were no longer in view, Satsuki’s gaze had moved to Kuroko.

“Tetsu-kun, that man was really gross.”

Kuroko sighed. “I apologize you had to hear those words. No one will —”

“That’s not just it,” Satsuki interrupted, “He’s gross for other reasons.”

Kouki’s heart plummeted. She wasn’t going to… was she?

The duke was frowning. “Is there something that I am not aware of?”

Momoi quickly nodded. “He kept touching Kiku-chan throughout the play. I switched seats with her, and then threatened him if he did anything else.”

Pacing his breath, Kouki witnessed the myriad emotions flash on Kuroko’s face. Yet, before any other words could be exchanged, his usual blank expression had fallen into place. Despite how much his hands were trembling.

“I see.” The deadly calm tone had returned. “Please excuse me while I have a few words with Taira-san.”

 

That night, any future deals with the man had been cancelled, and Kuroko had completely ended their business deal.

* * *

Consequently, the unfortunate incident had caused Furihata to retreat into his protective cocoon. He would hesitantly trail along to the places Momoi went, but Kuroko needed to be by his side during each outing. If he somehow was unable to, Furihata would politely decline and rearrange for another time. That wasn’t an issue, as Momoi always understood without need of an explanation.

When he wasn’t journeying through the village, he would spend his days, and sometimes evenings, within the gardens.

This wouldn’t have been much of a concern if Furihata hadn’t been devoting his entire care and focus on a particular blossom. If it wasn’t an indication that something was amiss, the fact he had started to reply on it for companionship was. Kuroko had witnessed such behavior on the morning following the play. How Furihata had knelt next to the flower, and before long, had begun to converse with it.

Kuroko had managed to enter the gardens amidst the conversation, snagging only pieces. At first, he thought Furihata was expressing his troubles to Momoi or someone within the manor. But then he soon realized, he was alone and was indeed speaking to the flower.

“I know you’re probably upset about that. It was scary,” Furihata had said, “But you don’t have to worry. Kuroko-san is here to protect me when you’re not.”

A bit unnerved, Kuroko had continued to observe in silence, peering back inside every other moment to scout the halls. The last he needed was Aomine disrupting and discovering Furihata was talking to a flower. There would be no end to hearing about it, and the idiot would probably pester him nonstop. Furihata didn’t need another reason for more discomfort. Not with the countless ones he already had to endure.

“Kuroko-san is really great,” he continued, “He might not protect me exactly like you do…” Furihata paused. “But he makes me feel safe.”

He then reached down to stroke the petals gently.

“I promise I’ll take care of you. Just as you always have done for me.”

Though it might have been a bit strange to see, Kuroko had supported this odd remedy. Perhaps, he hoped, it would abate some of Furihata’s misery.

 

 

 

Miraculously, his hope had proved correct.

 

 

As time moved forward, Furihata’s days were consumed by the garden and seeking reassurance from the flower. He always seemed at ease, even when one of his nightmares had haunted him the entire morning. Kuroko allowed this behavior to persist, satisfied this therapy was exactly what Furihata had required all along. Even if the conversation partner couldn’t respond, it still brought a smile to his face.

And that was what Kuroko wished to see. Furihata happy, especially within these dark periods.

 

 

 

Until one morning when the summery weather was no more.

 

 

 

Kuroko had been tossing logs into the fire, hastily trying to warm the manor before Aomine barged in. The brisk temperatures had been abrupt, as autumn wasn’t for another month, and the heavy rains had aided to that. But given how the last few weeks had been lacking sunshine, it should have been expected.

By some people, not all, for he could hear Aomine ranting in another room.

He had just turned a corner when Furihata whisked by him. Puzzled by this erratic performance, Kuroko watched as he fled out the patio doors, arms occupied with countless books. Had something frightened him? Never had he seen him so frantic, so distraught. At least not for a long time, and not like this. Sure, he had his somber moments, but Kuroko hadn’t seen him in severe distress when he was within the manor. Not since the first time he had brought him home.

Unsettled, he entered the gardens to Furihata frantically patting down the soil and soothing the sacred flower’s now wilting petals.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Fate was back with her cruel jokes. The cooler weather meant the finale of many blossoms. Although he knew most would return next spring, it was far too early in Furihata’s world for them to wither, and he was panicking over the sudden fluctuation.

Carefully approaching the trembling figure, Kuroko laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Furihata-kun.”

He whirled around, showing Kuroko his smeared face. Inky blots caked his cheeks, and waterlogged eyes were staring at him as though the end of the world had come. At his feet, were countless books on the care of flowers, the pages flipped through so quickly that they had begun to tear at the edges.

“Kuroko-san,” he choked, “He’s leaving me. I-I might never… see him again.”

Balancing himself on the ledge, Kuroko knelt to his level, their gazes locked.

“Furihata-kun.” His tone was soft, cautious. “Are you speaking about the flower, or Akashi-kun?”

Clearly, he wasn’t ready for that line of conversation.

“W-what does A-Akashi-sama have to do with this?”

Inwardly, Kuroko swore. He hadn’t intended to reveal everything so sloppily. There was to be a precise moment for that, but the sight of Furihata sobbing over a mountain of dirt had changed its course. His despair was now at a severely risky degree, and soon there would be nothing that could pacify it. Aside from that, it was now far too late to reconsider. Kuroko knew for certain the time for the long-awaited talk had finally arrived.

Yet he would have to tread cautiously. This was a vulnerable topic, as he was unsure how Furihata would react. He didn’t want to overwhelm him with question after question, and wanted to prevent anything that might startle him from happening.

This would have to move as slowly as possible.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Akashi-kun?”

Kouki blinked, seemingly puzzled.

“O…of course I… knew him. You first introduced me to…”

He was unable to finish his sentence.

“That is not what I am speaking of. You knew Akashi-kun before I placed you into his care. Am I incorrect?”

Horrified, Kouki’s eyes widened, roaming anywhere but Kuroko’s expression. Why was he suddenly raising this of all subjects? Actually, the better question was, how? Did he slip and say something he wasn’t aware of? How had he let his guard down to where he was now being confronted about something he never thought he would? When did this blunder occur?

The masqueraded boy wanted to scream.

“Furihata-kun,” Tetsuya nudged gently.

Defeated, Kouki surrendered. “I… I didn’t know it was him you were taking me to then. I really didn’t. I…”

That confirmed part of Akashi’s explanation. Openly, he had told Kuroko he had hid his true identity from Furihata. He wasn’t aware of the crown prince’s name at the time, and Akashi had used that to his full advantage.

“But you have known him.” A small nod. “Since you were children?”

His eyes drooped. “…Yes.”

Kuroko swept a false strand behind Furihata’s ear, assuring his tone was still unconfrontational.

“Why would you keep that from me?”

“I…I didn’t want to bother anyone. I…I want to stay here, and if you knew, you’d make me stay at the palace.”

The duke was taken aback.

“I would never. You are welcomed to stay here for as long as you wish. But tell me, how come you do not wish to stay with Akashi-kun? Especially with how close you are.” Kuroko paused.  “You are more than childhood friends.”

Cheeks ablaze, Kouki’s gaze remained lowered.

“I... I don’t want to be a burden. Akashi-san has a lot to deal with… and…”

Kouki heaved a breath.

“Please take your time, Furihata-kun. There is no rush.”

They adjusted their position to a more comfortable one, Kouki’s tingling knees screaming in relief. Checking his beloved flower one last time, he placed the books to the side, tapping his heels against the pavement as he tried to form the correct words.

Oh, how he could recall the chaotic atmosphere within the palace, especially on the days the council would hound Akashi nonstop. How Akashi would do everything humanly imaginable to avoid them, and grant Kouki as much of his spare time as he could.

“Things were already crazy when Akashi-san was the prince.” He skipped right over when Akashi had uncovered his masquerade. “The council would bother him about the crowning, and he got so angry. He wanted to spend so much time with me, but they wouldn’t allow it. He spent more time ignoring them than he did actually listening.”

Kouki chuckled lightly at the memory.

“When he became emperor, things got really insane. He really didn’t want to do it. I still think he doesn’t. He was always in meetings, had to always meet with people, but he always made sure I was taken care of. He became upset that he couldn’t give me all his time, and while I understood, I knew it was causing a lot of problems. Akashi-san wasn’t doing the job he knew he had to do. A really important job.”

Kuroko sighed. “It is within Akashi-kun’s nature to do what he wants.” He was delighted by the faint smile. “That is understandable why you could have felt very overwhelmed there. There is a lot happening each day.”

“I won’t lie… I-I really wanted to stay there, and I even thought about it. But when you came, I knew I had to go.”

He decided to omit the fact he owed Kuroko his life. Kouki knew he could never repay him, no matter what he did, but he also was aware Kuroko would think the entire opposite. Surely after learning of his relationship with Akashi, Kuroko would tell him the whole other reason was silly for why he chose to stay with him. Even without knowing about Akashi, Kouki knew that was how Kuroko would react.

That part, he would keep to himself.

Kuroko frowned. “You could have told me that you wanted to stay.”

“I wanted to, but it would only make everything worse. I know he really wants me to.” Kouki heaved another breath, a shaky, lingering one. “…I…I think I made him mad the last time…”

“Was this during the ball?”

Kouki nodded. “He was really hurt about me going with you. He still is.”

Realization dawned, and Kuroko concluded this was what evoked Furihata’s breakdown. Somewhere within those few moments, he and Akashi must have gotten tangled in a disagreement. He never would have foreseen it, as Akashi had been expressionless at the time he requested Furihata’s hand for a dance. There had been no traces of emotion, none whatsoever. But for as long as he had known him, Akashi had always acted in that manner.

Perhaps it was also the reason for the one before they entered the palace, as well.

“I do not think he will stay mad for long. Akashi-kun and you are bonded, are you not?”

Gaze once more angled downward, Kouki hid his reddened face. He knew what that word meant, but maybe Kuroko was using it in different terms.

Either way, he slowly nodded.

“Then, he knows everything about you?”

Kouki froze. Everything _but_ the reason for his masquerade. Which was probably the most important. No, it _was_ the most important.

“… Y-yes,” he whispered, ashamed by the lie.

“Except about your past. Is that not right, Furihata-kun?”

His flushed complexion diminished, and Kouki stared at him in utter shock.

“Akashi-kun and I had a talk the last visit. This is how I know everything I have told you so far.”

The declaration completely dumbfounded him, but he wasn’t sure if he was surprised or puzzled. Akashi had broken his promise? He was fairly certain the one who had incited the discussion had to have been Akashi, as he knew Kuroko would never. Had he caused this when they were dancing? Was this what Akashi’s pain had resulted in? If he had known then he…

But then that meant… that... that!

Kouki repressed the queasiness. “Y-you… you told him about it? About my…”

“I haven’t,” Kuroko quickly objected to ease his nerves, “I will not say a word unless you approve.”

As relieved as he was, it didn’t cease the tears from reforming.

“I-I… can’t tell him. He would find me disgusting, and never look at me the same way ever again…”

His eyes widened when he was suddenly pulled forward, his hands wrapping around Kuroko’s shoulders for support.

“It is not your fault what happened to you, Furihata-kun.” Kuroko ran his fingers through the false tresses. “Akashi-kun cares very deeply for you. That is obvious. And it is hurting him that you do not trust him.”

Kouki sniffled. “I do trust him, but he’d think so different of me. He… thinks I’m this innocent thing. A jewel… as he likes to call it, but if he knew how tainted I really was… he’d… throw me away like the others did.”

“He would never. You mean everything to Akashi-kun. He would never think anything close to that.” 

Kouki’s tears doubled, his fingers clutching at the fabric of the duke’s attire.

“You do not have to tell him if you do not wish to, but you need to know it is hurting him. I know you trust him, but Akashi-kun thinks you do not.”

He clutched at Kuroko tighter. “I want to tell him, Kuroko-san, I really do, but I don’t know if I can. That’s why I can’t be around him. That’s why I’ve been…” Kouki paused, staring down at the withering blossom. “…Do you think I’m insane for talking to a flower…?”

“Does this certain flower remind you of Akashi-kun?”

The response was reluctant. “… Y-Yes.”  
  
“And this was how you met one another as children?”

Kouki nodded. “Sort of. I’ve always liked flowers, and I got him into it.” He laughed softly. “When we met, he was so grossed out that I was playing in dirt, and said he had no intention of doing that. He was really…”

“Furihata-kun?”

He shook his head. “S-sorry. I’m rambling now.”

“No, please.” Kuroko smiled softly. “Do continue.”

Relief shone in his hazel depths. Kouki never thought he’d be discussing a tale he took such caution to guard, but he couldn’t describe how wonderful it felt. As if a weight was being lifted off his shoulder, a large one.

“I really didn’t think he’d come back after the second time, but he did. The funny thing was… he had changed his clothes.”

Kuroko’s stare was puzzled.

“Oh, um… you see, the first and second time we saw each other, he was dressed all fancy. … Now I know why he was… but after those few times, he started dressing average. Like how the people of the village did. I just thought maybe he didn’t want to get his nice clothes all dirty.”

 

 

_I didn’t know the truth then._

**_Having made himself comfortable, Kouki continued to shuffle the soil around as he gazed at the row of blossoms. His thoughts were preoccupied with the mismatched eyed boy he had encountered twice now, wondering if he would be coming back again. Granted, he didn’t know much about him, as he did keep to himself, but it was nice to have a friend. The kids in the village weren’t interested in anything he was, and he always felt like the odd one out._ **

**_Footsteps then echoed behind him._ **

**_“I see you’re rolling around in dirt again, Furihata.”_ **

**_Kouki repressed a sigh. Then again, he might have been wrong. Akashi was probably going to be like all the others. He wasn’t going to share his love for flowers, or want to lay down in the fields with him and peer up at the sunshine and the many fluffy clouds. No one Kouki had met wanted to do the things he did, and it was sad to think he thought he had found someone._ **

**_He was going to be like all the others._ **

**_Disappointed, he turned around, and was surprised to see Akashi in plain clothing. His disappointment soon faded into slight excitement. Maybe he was going to sit there with him after all._ **

**_“Er, I’m not playing in dirt, Akashi-san. I was checking up on this flower.”_ **

**_Akashi chose to remain a few paces behind._ **

**_“What is so impressive about a flower, anyway? We have millions of them at home, and I don’t see what’s so appealing.”_ **

**_Kouki frowned. “Well… um…”_ **

**_He quickly racked his mind for some sort of a reason._ **

**_“Well?” Akashi was impatient as ever._ **

**_“I look at them like they’re something everyone really likes, but they can’t do anything about it.”_ **

**_His expression was sour. “If you are trying to make any sense, Furihata, you just failed.”_ **

**_Kouki giggled, trying to mask his uneasiness. “It’s like… you’re this really pretty thing, and everyone admires you. You’re free because you’re outside, but you’re still trapped in the ground. You can move when you want, but this is what you live as, trapped in the same space where everyone can see you each day.”_ **

**_Pretty deep for an eight-year-old, he had decided._ **

 

 

“I can never forget the look on his face. He stared at me with huge eyes, as if something I did say made sense. And now I realize, it did. He himself was that flower, living in a prison where everyone admired him, but he wanted to be free. I didn’t know then how much I had described his life.”

Kuroko nodded. “Under his father’s control, Akashi-kun was not able to do much.”

“Yeah. Even now he can’t, but at least he has a bit more freedom.” Kouki peered to the side. “Did you know him when he was younger, Kuroko-san?”

“Not as young as you did. I met him when he was around sixteen.”

Kouki froze. “Oh, so about the time… that… you —”

“That I welcomed you to my home,” Kuroko interjected, “Say it that way, Furihata-kun. There is no need to bring anything up.”

Acceptance was impractical. Kouki would never be able to banish those days from his memory. The horrors, they had finally concluded, and he was safe, locked in the arms of a savior. Something he never thought that he’d be gifted. Years had passed since then, and yet, it was still impossible to forget. Kouki wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to, but he would try. Somehow, he would one day overcome the nightmares that still threatened his very being.

This was one reoccurring awkward silence Kuroko didn’t want.

“Please continue if you wish to, Furihata-kun.”

Kouki snapped from his daze. Those were probably the words he was yearning for, even though he knew some of this tale was going to reform his heartache.

“O-okay…”

He sniffed, repressing any invasion of gathering tears.

“After that day, he began to sit in the gardens with me. He didn’t care for the flowers the way I did, but he sat next to me in the dirt. Without any complaints, this time,” Kouki laughed softly.

Pausing, he composed himself. This next part… this was…

“I don’t know exactly when,” he pushed himself to say, “but he started calling me by my first name. It was okay to me, because I thought it was nice. He wanted the same for him, but what he wanted was really different. Strange, in a way.”

 

 

 ** _“Is that all right? If it bothers you, I can always_** **_—”_**

**_“No, no.” Kouki waved his hands. “That’s fine, Akashi-san. We’re friends, and friends should do that.”_ **

**_The other child hummed in approval. “Then, I have a favor to ask. Could you stop calling me Akashi-san?”_ **

**_He hadn’t been expecting that, nonetheless, it was something Kouki was happy to hear._ **

**_“Oh, okay! Um… so then… Seijuro?”_ **

**_Akashi scowled. “No. Not that either.”_ **

**_Huh?_ **

**_Kouki frowned. “Um, what am I supposed to call you, then?_ **

**_He shrugged. “I don’t know, but not Akashi or Seijuro.”_ **

**_“So, I’m supposed to think of another name?”_ **

**_How come? Kouki thought Seijuro was such a neat name, and it definitely suited his friend. He could understand why he no longer wanted to be called his surname. They were friends, and friends should call each other by name. But why not his birth name? Oh, well. If he wanted a whole other name, then that was okay… weird… but if that’s what he wanted, Kouki would select one for him._ **

**_“Um… okay, how about Shintaro?”_ **

**_It was quickly denied._ **

**_“No, that’s the name of the doctor’s son.”_ **

**_Kouki’s nose scrunched. “Ryota?”_ **

**_“There’s an annoying kid a few towns over with that name, so no.”_ **

**_Huffing, Kouki peered around. Something, any object that he could use to conquer a name. If his friend didn’t like his, how come he had to be the one to pick it? Maybe he could ask his mom to give him an idea, and then come back tomorrow._ **

**_No, that wouldn’t be right._ **

**_“… Ah, um… how about… Sei?” He noticed there had been no objection, so he continued. “It’s part of your name, but it’s not your name? Is that okay?”_ **

**_The other child’s eyes lit up at the suggestion._ **

**_“I like that a lot, Kouki.”_ **

**_Kouki beamed, proud of himself._ **

**_“Sei it is, then!”_ **

 

 

 

 

 

“Sei. Is that what you call Akashi-kun?”

The masqueraded boy nodded.

“You have only called him Akashi-san our entire conversation.”

Kouki’s head bowed. “That’s because... I… I don’t think I’m allowed to call him that anymore.” Oh, that was painful to say. “At the ball, after we talked… he told me to call him Akashi from now on.”

“He is hurt, Furihata-kun. Anything Akashi-kun said at that time, I’m sure he did not mean.”

His sniffling came to a halt when something lightly brushed his hand. Kuroko smiled, running his fingers down it in a soothing manner.

“Please continue, if you want to.”

Kouki tearfully did.

“He started to come around earlier. There were times I would get there to find him instead. He started to become less…” Kouki paused, fashioning the precise words. “He… started to show a whole other side to him. He was so stingy about his clothes when we met, and yet…as time went on….”

 

 

 

**_Kouki shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as he exited the house._ **

**_Why did the weather have to be so chilly lately? He wanted to have fun, but it was becoming quite a challenge to stay outside. There was nowhere indoors for them to go, as it was too embarrassing to show Akashi his house. And, well, Akashi never told him where he lived. Maybe he lived somewhere that he didn’t want people to know about. That would make sense since he did usually come straight from the shrubbery._ **

**_Still, regardless of the circumstances, Kouki would bear the cold._ **

**_Crossing the path, he was surprised to find Akashi standing there already, and with a backpack._ **

**_“Kouki,” Akashi was first to speak, “It is becoming rather cold. Why are you not dressed properly for it?”_ **

**_He repressed another shiver. “I’m not really cold.”_ **

**_“Then how come you’re shaking?”_ **

**_Ah, how was it Akashi was always able to see right through him?_ **

**_“Do you not have anything for the cold weather?”_ **

**_It was pointless to lie. “… N-no. My mom’s been really tired lately, so she hasn’t been working, and that’s okay! I want her to rest more than anything.”_ **

**_“So you don’t have anything?” Akashi, oddly, seemed absolutely elated by this. “Good.”_ **

**_He slid the backpack from his shoulders and placed it on the ground. Fumbling with the snaps, he freed the seal. His hands shuffled around until he had pulled from it a pair of gloves, a hat, and a scarf. But Akashi wasn’t done, for a beige sweater came next._ **

**_Confused, Kouki stood back quietly. Until, to his surprise, they were being held out to him._ **

**_“Here, Kouki. Put these on. And after you do, you will keep them.”_ **

**_Surely, he resembled a fish out of water. “S-Sei,” he sputtered, “I can’t take these! These are yours!”_ **

**_“And now, they’re yours.”_ **

**_Standing in shock, Kouki remained motionless. Was this really happening? He had never been gifted such nice things before, or gifted anything, really. Words failed him, and he was clueless on how to react._ **

**_But Akashi’s impatience wasn’t._ **

**_“If you’re not going to, then I will.”_ **

**_Before Kouki could utter a reply, Akashi had pulled the sweater over his head, tugging it down until it fit snugly against him. But he didn’t stop there. Next came the hat, and then he was reaching for Kouki’s hand, securing one glove, then the next._ **

**_The scarf was the last to be wrapped around him._ **

**_Satisfied, Akashi stood back, admiring the now bundled up child._ **

**_“Promise me that you will wear them when it’s cold, Kouki. Not only when you meet me, but when you are always at risk of being cold.”_ **

**_Kouki sighed at the warmth, warmth he thought he’d never feel, except when his mother was holding him in her arms._ **

**_“I only come outside to meet you.”_ **

**_Akashi smiled. “That’s fine, but I want you to wear it all the time you feel cold. Okay?”_ **

**_“Okay.”_ **

**_The answer didn’t seem to suit him, Akashi staring at him with those mismatched eyes._ **

**_“Do you promise?”_ **

**_Kouki nodded, snuggling into the fabric._ **

**_“I promise!”_ **

 

 

“He started bringing me more and more items. Clothes, I couldn’t afford. They were all so nice. I never wanted to wear them because I was so afraid I’d ruin them.” Kouki’s expression was shameful. “I wanted to give him something back, b-but...I had nothing to return.”

“You did,” Kuroko disagreed, “Akashi-kun said you gave him the best gift of all.”

Kouki stared at him in bewilderment.

“A real childhood. He said because you gave him that, he started to bring you items he knew you needed.”

He was flabbergasted. “W-when did he say that?”

“During our discussion. Akashi-kun said the only way he knew how to repay you was through wealth, and that he wanted you safe when he was not there.”

Once more the tears reformed, but this time he didn’t cease the flow.

“I’m sorry.” Kuroko quickly fished a handkerchief from his pocket. “I did not mean to make you cry, Furihata-kun.”

His smile was watery. “No, it’s okay. I just never knew anything about that. It makes me really happy to hear that I did give him back something.”

Even through the heartache, there was a sparse of hope. Perhaps Kuroko was right. With how he constantly expressed his adoration toward him, Akashi could never be angry for long. By those words, words that came directly from him after they had argued… he had to have still loved him. But the problem was, he didn’t think that love was requited.

Nonetheless, Kouki resumed his tale.

“We started to go different places other than that one spot. Out into the fields, by the trees, and he would bring books and read to me. That’s how we spent most of our afternoons. Until I had to go home. Sometimes he would stay there after I left, and I never understood why.” Kouki sighed. “You would think when I tried to take him to the village, and he didn’t want anyone to know his name and wore a cloak to cover himself…I would have known something was wrong then. But I didn’t think anything of it.”

“You were a child. It was not something you were too worried about.”

Kouki nodded. “Sometimes I was curious, but I ignored it. He had done so much for me, and I didn’t want to seem nosy.”

Until this day… Akashi continued to do everything in his power for him, probably still would if they hadn’t…

“He was the best friend I had. I really had begun to care for him, and as years passed, I realized I couldn’t see myself without him.” His tone lowered to a more somber one. “And then one horrible day, it all ended. I didn’t see him anymore. I thought I had done something wrong.”

“Akashi-kun told me his father had discovered what he was doing.”

Kouki heaved a shaky breath. “Y-yeah… he told me that, but at the time… I was really confused and upset.”

 

 

 

**_Clothed in one of the outfits Akashi had provided for him, Kouki stared ahead at the bare shrubbery. His dear friend would usually emerge from there, but this had been the second week, and he hadn’t. Each day he had sat there, waiting, and waiting, hoping Akashi would miraculously surface._ **

**_But he never did._ **

**_Did he do something wrong? Was Akashi mad that he had forgotten to dress warmly one day? It wasn’t that he did so on purpose. He was in a rush to come and meet his friend._ **

**_Akashi had only shaken his head at his appearance, he hadn’t lectured him, and they went off to play like usual. Nothing was odd about that, so then what could he have done? Did he accidentally call him Akashi-san or Seijuro? Did he forget to do something he was supposed to?_ **

**_He couldn’t understand why Akashi had suddenly left._ **

**_“I dressed right today.” Kouki smiled, adjusting his scarf. “Will that make you come back…?”_ **

**_A few snowflakes swirled in the skies, one landing upon his nose. It was a glorious, picture-perfect sight, but it only made his heart clench. He and Akashi loved to play in the snow. They would be outside for hours, dancing in the many flakes, until it became too cold and they were forced to part from one another for the remainder of the afternoon._ **

**_Something he was hoping they’d be able to do yesterday… or the day before that… or today…_ **

**_But it didn’t seem that was happening._ **

**_“I guess I’ll try again tomorrow,” he whispered to the wind, “I hope you’re here then…”_ **

**_Peering at the bushes one last time, he sighed and headed for home. His mom wasn’t in the best shape, anyway, and he should probably be there for her instead of waiting for his friend. He was being selfish, especially with everything she had done for him._ **

**_Even with Akashi’s aid in being able to afford a doctor, there was only so much that could heal her. Kouki couldn’t stand to see her in pain, but what could he do? There was no one he could ask for help, and his friend and already given him more than enough._ **

**_Not everything could be fixed by being friends._ **

**_Pushing open the door, he wasn’t greeted by his mother, but three people he didn’t know. And one was carrying her out, wrapped in some sort of plastic. Why, what was going on? Where was his mom going? Why was she like that? Did he do something wrong by going outside to meet his friend and cause this… and how come this was…_ **

 

 

The tale ended abruptly.

“… You know the rest.”

Kuroko resumed consoling him; the last piece had remolded the grisly memories.

“It is obvious that you care for Akashi-kun as much as he does you.”

Emotionally exhausted, Kouki leaned back, paying no mind that he had fallen into the dirt. Despite not wearing proper clothing, it was still his second home. Something he was never afraid to be caked in.

“He doesn’t seem to think so.”

“That is because he is blinded by his pain, Furihata-kun. He is not seeing clearly. Inside him, I am sure Akashi-kun knows what the truth is.”

Circling around, Kouki reached for the sagging flower.

“I don’t know how to fix that, Kuroko-san. So many times, I thought about telling him everything, but then I think of what his reaction could be, and I can’t do it.” Kouki shuddered. “It would be awful.”

Kuroko watched as he once more caressed the wilting petals, sinking into the ground. While he was pleased that Furihata was no longer suffering alone, it wasn’t the result that was needed. The only one who could mend this permanently was Akashi.

There was no solution, no other course to take. Akashi needed to have knowledge of the past, of what occurred after he and Furihata separated. But, if Furihata didn’t wish to reveal anything, and Kuroko himself would continue to guard it, they had reached an impasse.

“He’s so beautiful, so perfect,” Kouki whispered, “and if he knew that I…”

“There is nothing wrong with you, Furihata-kun. I know for certain Akashi-kun thinks the exact same.”

Kouki’s head bowed.

“But, I’m…”

“As lovely as the flowers you grow.”

Kuroko climbed over the ledge, cautious to not bump into the sacred flower or any of the others. Ignoring the dirt that now stained his clothing, he focused on the hunched form. He scooted next to Furihata, curling his fingers under his chin to tilt it upward until teary eyes connected with his.

“When the time comes,” the duke coaxed gently, “you will tell Akashi-kun. There is no need to rush. You must do it when you feel it is right for you.”

A dreadful thought made him grip onto Kuroko’s shirt.

“… What if I never can?”

But as always, Kuroko had the answer.

“I will help you. If you need me to.”

Kouki’s eyes widened, staring into the sky-blues that held such concern. Concern for him.

“You are never alone, Furihata-kun.”

The dam that he had been restraining himself with snapped. If he hadn’t been crying before, he surely was now. Kouki sobbed, releasing all the anguish that had risen during the months, the confession of his relationship with Akashi, strengthening that. Relieved as he was, the pain still lingered, in knowing Akashi was wounded because of him. To know that Akashi thought he didn’t trust him, when he did with all his heart.

If he could, he would grant him his everything.

 

 

Unbeknownst to them, a figure stood by the doors, quietly observing. Momoi’s hands were clutched to her mouth, her dark eyes wide as she listened to the entire story from the moment Kuroko entered the gardens.

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

Warmth and security, thoroughly encompassing him. He wasn’t certain where it was stemming from, or where even he was, but he cared not. His fingers were grasping something silky, nose pressed against it to inhale the pleasant, familiar scent. Encircled in his small cocoon, he nudged himself closer, wanting to indulge in this sanctuary for the time he was allowed.

Despite how satisfying the surrounding delicacy was, his eyes felt heavy. His lungs ached, and his throat was raw. There was a light weight perched on the crown of his head. Slowly, it slid down to his hairline. Kouki exhaled softly, the simple reaction provoking his burning lungs.

What had occurred that he was in a position where he was experiencing both pleasure and pain to the utmost?

And that was when he heard it.

“Furihata-kun.”

The voice was dull, yet Kouki could sense the concern laced within its tone. It was beckoning him toward it, coaxing him from the darkness he had been snared in. As his eyes flickered open, they stung, but he continued until he was bathed in sunlight. Yet, try as he might, Kouki couldn’t open his eyes fully, the heaviness and gummy pressure sealing them shut.

“It is all right, Furihata-kun.” The voice had returned. “Please don’t be afraid.”

Fingers desperately clutching at the silkiness, tugging to assure it was still there, Kouki’s gaze began to unveil. The view before him was hazy, wide eyes staring down at him, concern reflecting within their sky-blue depths.

Thick lashes fluttering, he finally focused on the image above him.

“Kuroko-san…?” he croaked.

The duke smiled. “Welcome back. You have been out for a while. I suppose you became emotionally drained.”

Emotionally drained? Kouki’s sleep fogged mind started to function again, and realization dawned. How could he have forgotten?

He had rushed to the gardens in a fit of hysteria, determined to save his precious flower. Only to be confronted by Kuroko. There he had learned that Kuroko was aware of his relationship, of his past with Akashi, and he himself had revealed more about their childhood. Kuroko then assured him that he wouldn’t have to stand it alone, and that had caused him to expel his repressed heartache. It had been the first time, aside from when he reunited with Akashi after countless years, that Kouki had been with someone rather than lavishing in the solitude he had become so accustomed to. Someone was there when he had unleashed all the misery he harbored.

No wonder he felt as though a horse had stomped all over him. With how long he had been crying for, it wasn’t a surprise that he had passed out.

... In Kuroko’s lap.

Face immensely scarlet, Kouki launched forward, bowing repeatedly.

“I-I’m sorry, Kuroko-san! I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you!”

Kuroko gently captured his thrashing hands. “Please calm down, Furihata-kun. There is no need to apologize.”

He noticed a black splotch on Kuroko’s shirt. A stain Kouki was certain had been the result of his heavily made façade smearing against the duke’s chest.

“B-But I stained your shirt. It's all my fault.”

Overlooking the repentant manner entirely, Kuroko used the handhold to seat them once again. He examined the sooty rings around Furihata’s swollen eyes, the dark blots of makeup now smeared across his face. The pearl rose hue had been rubbed from his lips, the powder that dusted his cheeks completely erased. Each carefully applied paint was quickly vanishing, exposing to the world who really lay beneath the façade.

“I am more concerned that your disguise is coming undone.”

Panic rose, and Kouki peered around wildly for something, anything, that would conceal his failed masquerade.

“Calm down, Furihata-kun. We will go inside and fix it.”

He then stood, using his strength to balance Kouki’s wobbly posture. Merely a small glimpse displayed how dazed he still was. Exhausted beyond belief from unchaining the bolt of his heart, from releasing everything that he had kept hidden from Kuroko.

“We will take —”

“Oi, Tetsu! Letter! Seems important. I think.”

Kuroko easily would have brushed the interruption aside. If it wasn’t for how close Aomine sounded. Each step, Kuroko could sense he wasn’t far from the patio doors, and there was no path for Kouki to escape without one taking notice. That in mind, Kuroko guided him back down onto the ledge.

“Stay here,” he commanded quietly, “I will take care of Aomine-kun.”

Fearful of any sudden consequences, all Kouki could do was nod, watching as Kuroko rushed up the steps. Once Kuroko was within the manor, Kouki could vaguely hear him conversing with the servant, lecturing Aomine on being obnoxious, and he should have known by now how to summon him.

Now alone, Kouki spent the moment attempting to compose himself. But it was futile. He could sense the crown of false tresses shifting from its settled location. His heavily superficial features were naked, and what makeup that did remain was barely hanging on. The rest was smudged into Kuroko’s clothes. What wasn’t on the duke’s shirt stained Kouki’s fingertips, caused by the excessive rubbing of his eyes.

Despite how wrecked his appearance was, it was a relief that he no longer toted this extra weight. Kuroko confronting him had been exactly what he needed all along. The emotional turmoil that had enhanced from his separation with Akashi, was now exposed. The one whose care he was in, now was aware of everything, would stand by his side when the day arrived where he would reveal his past to Akashi.

Absorbed in his troubles, he didn't hear the dainty footsteps. Nor did he take notice, until a handkerchief was nudging against his cheek. The hand brushed briefly against his shoulder, and Kouki accepted the cloth without a second thought.

“Thank you, Kuroko-san. I hope you were able to —”

However, when he turned, it wasn’t Kuroko who he encountered.

“M-Momoi-san.” Oh, no. His voice. “What… what are you…”

The artificial treble perished in his throat. She had already heard his bolder tone when he thought he was thanking Kuroko, and not her.

It was completely pointless now.

But instead of gracing him with disgust and anger, there was a gentle smile on her lips. Leaning forward, she used her own handkerchief and blotted the corners of his watery eyes, erasing some of the tainted makeup. 

“Don’t worry,” she spoke softly, “You don’t have to hide anything from me. Not anymore.”

Kouki’s shoulders slumped. “… You’re not at all weirded out that you thought I’ve been a girl all along, and I’ve been a boy? That’s not strange to you?”

“Well, yeah,” she agreed, “It’s a bit of a shock, and I didn’t expect it. But you’re my friend, Kiku-ch… Oh… do you prefer another name?”

He laughed faintly. “You can keep using Kiku, if you want.”

“But your name is Furihata? Or is that something only Tetsu-kun calls you?”

Kouki shook his head. “My… my real name is Furihata Kouki.”

He could only assume she was deeply thinking, soaking in this new information. But he himself had questions as well. For starters, how did she show up at the exact time? Had she heard him weeping, became concerned, then stopped when she saw Kuroko was there?

“Does everyone here know about your disguise?” 

His eyes widened. “N- no. Only Kuroko-san does.”

Admittedly, Kouki wasn’t bothered that she was wise to the truth, that she was requesting all these answers. Yet, he was hoping that they didn’t have to engage in _that_ part. Even Akashi wasn’t aware of that side of his tale yet.

“What about Akashi?”

His heart plummeted. She had heard that much? When exactly had she come by?

Satsuki noticed his expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hear all of that. I came looking —”

The doors then opened, breezily closing behind the footsteps against the pavement.

“I am sorry for the delay. I did not…” Kuroko sighed when he saw another presence. “Momoi-san, you were eavesdropping again, weren’t you?”

Satsuki giggled. “I came looking for Kiku-chan, and I just happened to hear.”

“That is called eavesdropping.”

She shrugged.

Irritation aside, his focus returned to Furihata’s condition. “Never mind. We will discuss this after Kiku-san is safe. Now, come with me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

With Momoi’s assistance, Kouki had managed to reach his dressing table. Still a bit disoriented, he struggled to settle into the cushioned chair, his fingers gripping the edges. Though his hysterics had faded, his posture remained wobbly, and the reflection before him was enough evidence of that. Dried, inky trails blemished his cheeks, thick ringlets encircled his eyes. His clothes were caked in dirt, fragments of soil trapped underneath his nails. 

Dabbing the moist cloth against his face, he began to clear the remnants of his makeup. He scrubbed at his cheek, his movements coming to an abrupt halt when he recalled the last time this occurred. It was the morning after, that he had awoke to find Akashi absent from his side, and had panicked then thinking it had been a dream.

Kouki resisted lecturing himself. Why was he doing this? He had already cried off every shred of makeup, and now he was about to do it again. It would be impossible to reapply anything at this point. Maybe the wisest decision was for his skin to be bare. There was no harm in staying in his room for the remainder of the evening. Especially if there was a risk he would endure a replay of the situation out in the gardens.

To be honest, the entire affair had been mortifying. From becoming unhinged about something as simple as a flower, to Kuroko discovering him crying in the dirt that he had continued to roll around in. After the confrontation, he had revealed everything about Akashi, constantly informing Kuroko that he would never accept him once he became aware of his past. If he found out how tainted he was. If he…

His thoughts ceased by the sound of Kuroko’s voice.

“Momoi-san, may I have a word?”

It was then he noticed Kuroko was several paces behind, having chosen to stand by the door. Intrigued, he watched as Momoi nodded, and headed toward Kuroko. Kouki wished to know what they were speaking of, but instead, he focused on repairing his appearance. Hopefully the swollenness around his eyes would soon disappear, and soon the black smudges would be no more.

Once aside and no longer within hearing range, Kuroko instantly addressed the point.

“If you do not mind, I wish to speak to Furihata-kun alone.”

She should have expected that was the reason. Only, she didn’t count of it being as abrupt as it was. Still, Momoi knew this wasn’t someone to argue against.

“Of course.” Though she seemed hesitant. “I’m sorry I interrupted before, Tetsu-kun… I was just worried.”

Kuroko nodded. “I understand. Thank you for your concern, Momoi-san.”

The door closed softly, and Kuroko stepped forward until he was at the vanity. He lingered in silence for a moment or two, deciding he was content in observing the masqueraded boy from a small distance.

“I am sorry that I didn’t get back to you before Momoi-san arrived.”

The apology surprised him.

“I-It’s okay.”

But Kuroko wasn’t convinced. “I feel I am to blame for the exposure of your identity.”

“Please don’t feel it’s your fault, Kuroko-san.” Kouki placed a hand on his. “It might have been a good thing.”

The duke’s eyebrow rose speculatively.

“Momoi-san is becoming such a good friend… that I was beginning to feel horrible hiding a big secret from her.”

His sigh was irritated. “I suppose Aomine-kun being obnoxious was correct after all.” Kuroko paused. “I still am not happy this happened all at once, and overwhelmed you.”

“Yeah.” Kouki’s laugh was strained. “It’s been a real fun day.”

Kuroko skimmed his haggard appearance. The inflamed eyes, the baggage beneath the thick lashes. Even Furihata’s lips were pale, sagging, nowhere close to their usual pink hue. Every part of him screamed exhausted, and Kuroko would be lying if it wasn’t concerning him.

“You should rest.”

Encountering his current reflection, Kouki flinched. Had his condition declined in the past few minutes?

“Y-yeah… I think I’ll do that.”

Kuroko nodded. “I will be in the study. Please, Furihata-kun, come to me if you need anything. I don’t want you to be alone in your sadness.”

A smile twitched on his lips. “I-I will. Thank you, Kuroko-san.”

With one last nod, Kuroko exited the suite. Slowly closing the door behind, he nearly bumped into another. Momoi was still outside, leaning against the wall and waiting patiently, the uneasiness imprinted in her visage.

“Kiku… I mean, Kouki-chan?”

Kuroko released the handle. “He is resting.”

“I’m glad.”

Their short discussion dissolved into silence, Kuroko turning to peer down the hallway. His bright eyes quickly swept the area, and then they were centered on her once more.

“Momoi-san, no one can know about this. Furihata-kun’s disguise is extremely important to him.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Even Dai-chan doesn’t know? Or Kagami?”

“No. I am the only one that knows.”

There was a firm pause between them, Momoi digging her heel into the carpet.

“And Akashi?”

Kuroko sighed. “Yes, and Akashi-kun. I am speaking of those within the manor, though. It would upset Furihata-kun greatly if anyone else knew.”

“I won’t say anything, but…” She noticed Kuroko’s gaze had slightly hardened. “Am I allowed to ask you some questions, Tetsu-kun?”

There was another pause. Once more, Kuroko was scanning the hallways for any sudden intrusions.

“We will continue this in the study.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“If you have any questions involving why Furihata-kun is in disguise, then I am sorry, Momoi-san, but I cannot answer those.”

She nodded. “I understand, but I think I already know why he does.” 

Kuroko’s expression was quizzical.

“Well… “ Satsuki tapped her chin. “He would ask some things every now and then. Like what happened to my friend, if she’s doing all right. And anyway, I wasn’t going to talk about that. I wanted to know about Akashi.”

Another sigh. “I am learning about it for the first time as well. If it had not been for Akashi-kun’s confrontation, I would have never known, since Furihata-kun has kept this a secret from me.”

“I didn’t hear much, but…” Kuroko stared at her. “Okay, so I heard a lot! But do you think he’s going to tell Akashi?”

His head bowed. “I wish that would happen, but Furihata-kun is afraid. I cannot, and will not do anything without his say.”

“I know. I just feel this is going to do more harm than good.”

Kuroko’s shoulders drooped. “I agree with you, Momoi-san, but nothing can be done.”

“Maybe we should talk to him when he wakes up, and —”

“No,” the objection was immediate, “Let Furihata-kun be the one to come to one of us. I don’t want to push anything.”

He could only hope that Furihata wasn’t going to slink back into his protective shelter. Words couldn’t describe how difficult the battle had been to get him to open up. Although Kuroko was glad that the tale of Akashi was no longer hidden, and to learn of Furihata’s odd behavior, there were still a few obstacles. One that he knew was going to be impossible to overcome.

And if they didn’t overcome it, they would be back to the beginning.

That was the last thing Kuroko wanted.

* * *

 

Being impatient was never her motive, but it was her forte. With how delicate the situation was, accompanied by Kouki’s fragile state, Satsuki didn’t want to appear pushy. She had wanted to postpone any meddling until Kouki consulted either Kuroko or herself on his own standards. Then, they could continue the discussion she had accidentally stumbled upon.

However, it had been over a week now. Wasn’t that enough time for her to mention the subject on her own? The reason wasn’t that she was eager to learn more. No, she had gained enough knowledge when she had listened that day, and during her brief conversation with Tetsuya. Even before then, when Kouki had discreetly asked her questions. Personal ones, that she was more than happy to answer. Questions that once prompted pain, stories that she didn’t wish to speak of.

But now she wished to help him overcome his, to attain a resolution to this despair.

She didn’t intend on broaching his past, or having him explain why he had adapted to this masquerade. If anything, she wanted to enhance her knowledge about his relationship with Akashi. How long? When did they reunite? Did they know it was each other then? From their childhood? Now that she was aware, she was beginning to realize how forlorn he appeared when discussions of Akashi emerged. A prime example was when he discovered a ball was being held in honor of Akashi searching for a suitor, an empress that would long stand with him and rule by his side.

Oh, that had to have hurt. To have known then the one you loved was seeking a life with another, another that wasn’t you. Thankfully it had turned out to be a rogue. Which brought her to the next point that was nagging at her.

Akashi wouldn’t have constructed this scheme for any other reason. Not if he wasn’t determined to reclaim Kouki. It didn’t matter how strained their bond was. He would never glance in the opposite direction, never look at another. Satsuki was sure of it. A great amount of effort had gone into this. No one who didn’t love someone would do that. Any actions, any words he had spoken when confronting Kouki was a result of his pain.

Yet, Kouki had been so consumed by his fog of despair that he couldn’t see the truth for himself. He’d chosen to dwell in the misery of knowing he would never see Akashi again.

While it was wonderful that he didn’t have to suffer alone, now that both Kuroko and she knew the truth, Kouki was still miserable. And he would remain so unless something was done to remedy the situation.

Satsuki didn’t want to see that happen.

The whole country had been deceived, herself included, that the emperor was pursuing marriage. Though, currently, no one else but their small trio knew. When she had uncovered that by eavesdropping, that it was indeed a fabrication, she had found it strange. Now that she knew the full story, she was convinced Akashi wouldn’t have gone through great lengths unless it was to lure Kouki back to him. He still had feelings for him. If he had all the facts, even Aomine would have understood that.

She rolled her eyes. Scratch that. Aomine was on his own level when it came to denseness.

Even if she couldn’t mend Akashi and Furihata’s relationship, she was eager to at least ease some of the latter’s pain. Satsuki didn’t know how, but she was going to obtain a way. The probability of provoking Kuroko in her attempt was high. However, if everything worked out accordingly, maybe he would discard her ignoring his command.

Maybe.

Determined, she entered the gardens, seeking out the masqueraded boy. Although she knew she had dropped in on him numerous times, the situation was brittle, and she'd have to tread cautiously. This was part of their usual routine, so she didn't think it appeared anything close to obtrusive. But she didn’t want to seem as though she was being too aggressive.

Especially when she knew she had to conjure up how to fix everything.

“Kouki-chan!”

Was it acceptable to call him that? Should she stay with Kiku? He did say both were okay, but did he prefer one over the other? Momoi hadn’t even considered the fact. She was far too focused on hauling him out of his sorrow.

By how he jolted, the greeting must have startled him. Perhaps Kiku was the proper title after all.

“Hello, Momoi-san. I- I haven’t seen you for a while.”

That was a choice she detested. Momoi felt it was in her best interest to grant him time to himself. Something she was sure was needed. He was encased in a state where he was completely vulnerable, and she didn’t want to upset him anymore than he already was.

“I’ve been busy. I’m sorry, Kouki-chan.” She paused. “Is it okay to call you that? I wasn’t sure.”

He weakly laughed, or made what sounded like a laugh.

“It’s all right. Just not in public. Only when it’s us, or Kuroko-san is around.”

“Are you doing okay?”

Satsuki inwardly cursed. That wasn’t what she wanted to say! It was too abrupt, came soaring from her lips, and went entirely off the topic of his name.

Oh well. It was too late now.

Kouki slowly nodded. “I’m fine.”

Did he mean the opposite of fine? Because that surely was what he resembled. Quickly racking her brain, Satsuki remembered what she had wanted to tell him last week. She had arrived at the manor, eager to share the news, but had stumbled on his and Kuroko’s discussion. By then, any other thoughts in her head had vanished.

“How about we go to the market? There’s a new stand that has plants. They might have new flower seeds.”

As his head rose, Momoi wanted to shout in victory at managing to reach this far. It wasn’t a ploy to get him to talk, though. She truthfully had seen a new stand the other week. That was the reason she had come to the manor so quickly. But when she heard him sob, she rushed to the gardens, only to freeze when she heard Kuroko call him another name and begin the confrontation.

“I would like that...” His tone was still somber. “I’m glad you asked, because…”

She frowned. “Because what?”

“N-nevermind.”

Momoi leaned forward. “What’s wrong, Kouki-chan?”

Though, she was certain she knew what was.

“I…I didn’t think you were going to come back.” That was definitely not the answer she was expecting. “After last week… I was sure I made you feel odd… about… y-you know…”

What a terrible person she was. To know he thought she avoided him for one reason, when she was doing the complete opposite.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, Kouki-chan… To be honest… I thought you wanted to be left alone.”

His expression was puzzled.

“Well, you didn’t say anything about … …that… the next day, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Relief etched on his face. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t want to bug you or Kuroko-san anymore about. I think I did enough.”

Momoi leapt forward. “Oh, no, Kouki-chan! You can talk to me about anything. You should know that by now.”

“… You’re still not weirded out that I’m not…”

“Of course not! I told you before. You’re my friend. I like you for the person you are.”

He smiled faintly. “Thank you Momoi-san.”

A silence resumed between them, and Kouki’s gaze centered on the withering blossom. Debating hard, Momoi wondered if she should use it as an opener. If that would be her only chance to bring up the subject without directly asking him.

She took that chance.

“It really does resemble Akashi.”

His eyes widened.

“I remember you talking to Tetsu-kun about it, and now that I compare the two, I really can see why you’d think so.”

Was she moving too fast? She hoped not, but at least the opener hooked well. Whether he would respond or not, she didn’t know, but she was hoping to find out.

“It does… It was really special to me… and now it’s leaving…”

She patted his shoulder. “It’ll come back next year. Don’t worry.”

There was another pause. Another opportunity to enhance the discussion she yearned to enter.

“If you want, you can talk about anything that’s bothering you. Even if it’s…”

Kouki sighed. ”It hurts a lot to talk about him…”

“I understand,” she spoke softly, “But I don’t want you to feel that you have to face it alone.”

They were the exact words Kuroko had said to him.

“I just…” Kouki heaved a long breath. “I wish I could somehow be near him.”

That couldn’t be accomplished without him revealing his past to Akashi. If only there was another way that she could bring him to the emperor… to be near where he … wait a second.

Momoi brightened as an idea popped into her head.

“What if you could be, but you really weren’t?”

His confusion returned. “… Huh?”

Grabbing his hand, Momoi tugged him forward until he had carefully exited from the garden ledge.

“Come on. Let’s go talk to Tetsu-kun about something.”

* * *

Kouki stepped from the carriage reluctantly, checking that they were stationed within a vacant area. He frowned at the cool breeze, adjusting the hood that hid his features. Aside from the cloak, his lavish gowns were swapped for a more ordinary attire, and the false tresses were tied back neatly. Truthfully, the disguise wasn’t necessary on top of his already masqueraded form, as neither he or Momoi were notorious throughout the village.

But, he himself was known to those of the palace, whose formidable gates were situated on the opposite side. It was a great distance from where they stood, and yet, Kouki could practically hear the water flowing from the many fountains that resided within the gates. Ironically, despite the span between them, he could see no guards. A few of them were usually positioned on each sides of the gates, the bulk patrolling where the main passageway was.

It was uncanny to see this setup.

He tried not to sigh at his obsessive thinking. Why was he torturing himself? Kouki knew unquestionably that he couldn’t be with Akashi. That much was obvious, and yet being in the area where he dwelled, somehow eased his grieving heart. Even if it was only a little bit. He didn’t want his presence known, nor did he want Akashi to grasp a hint that he was near. His heart couldn’t deal with another blow. Not after the catastrophe at the ball.

Although Akashi wasn’t one to trek the village, there was still that slim chance there could be an unfortunate encounter.

That nagging concern aside, he was now convinced Akashi’s words during their last interaction were truthful. Since their relationship was no longer a secret to Kuroko, there was nothing at risk. If that were the case, and it certainly was, how come he hadn’t written to Kuroko? There was nothing left to hide, so why wasn’t he pestering him nonstop for the answers he was still seeking? Akashi wasn’t one to admit defeat, not until he got what he wanted.

Then why hadn’t he…

Kouki’s thoughts were halted by Momoi exiting from the carriage. She headed to the front, informing the driver they would only be gone for an hour or so, but he was allowed to tour if he wished. Satisfied, she rushed to where Kouki was standing, clasping her hands together with a loud sigh.

“I didn’t think Tetsu-kun was going to agree!”

And that couldn’t have been closer to the truth. Conflict had risen when it came to convincing Kuroko.

Yet, after Momoi had explained it might ease Kouki’s pain a bit, to be close to where Akashi was, Kuroko had agreed to the journey. Skeptically. He hadn’t been thrilled about the whole ordeal of traveling that distance without him. Especially after the breakdown Kouki had only a week prior to then. To be honest, at the time, Kouki himself wasn’t certain if this was a smart idea. But as they neared their destination, his heart had regained the role of commander, and he had yearned to be within the village.

As long as it wasn’t known that they were there.

Momoi adjusted her own hood; she too had worn a cloak so he alone didn’t attract attention. Thankfully, it was windy. A perfect excuse for their getup.

“Is there any place you want to go to?”

His gaze was once more on the palace, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Anywhere is fine,” he whispered, “… just not close to there…”

Momoi nodded. “We can walk through the village if you want. Maybe you can tell me about some of the places. You were here as a kid, right?”

They began a leisure stroll, trailing the streets, and browsing the stands.

“My childhood wasn’t the last time I was here.” Kouki’s tone was quiet, forlorn. “I came here with Mibuchi-san, who was asked to run an errand for Sei. Though later on, I found out it wasn’t really…”

He hesitated, and then slowly pushed up his sleeve.

“… It was for this.”

Satsuki’s eyes widened underneath her hood. “That’s beautiful, Kouki-chan!”

His smile was wobbly. “… I-It belonged to his mother. He said he gave it to me… because…”

There was a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t make yourself sad, Kouki-chan. It’s a beautiful treasure. Cherish it.”

He sniffled. “I always do. I try not to wear it because I’m afraid I’ll lose it.” Kouki heaved a shaky breath. “That was only during the day… later on, I…”

Dispersing his emotions to the best he could, he lingered by one of the stands. Eyes roaming the counter, they landed on a row of flower crowns. For a brief moment, he wondered if this was the same stand Akashi had purchased one for him the night they attended the festival.

“Sei and I went to the festival they have here.”

 Momoi gasped. “Akas-  er… he actually went out?”

“Kind of dressed like how we are now,” Kouki laughed faintly, “But yeah, he did.”

His gaze drifted from the crowns, his heart clenching painfully.

“That was the last time I was here…”

Maybe he was oblivious, but Momoi surely wasn’t. When he started being dragged away, Kouki realized he was once more inwardly abusing himself. The shift in direction led them to a jewelry stand. Though the silver trinkets may have reminded him of the treasure donning his arm, they were nowhere close to the beauty. If there was something that did capture his interest, it was the numerous gems that sparkled in the sunlight. Kouki always did enjoy seeing those.

But nothing compared to the value of what was wrapped around his wrist.

“What pretty girls.” Sales pitch, what a surprise. “You should come see these over here.”

Momoi scoffed and leaned by his ear. “All this guy can see is our hair, and he’s still trying to talk to us.”

Troubled as he might have been, it was difficult to repress his giggle. Of course he had plenty of experience listening to merchant prattle, but he couldn’t recall when one of them had actually approached him. Perhaps then because his attire was far too common. Even though he and Momoi were hidden under cloaks, they certainly weren’t fashioned out of cheap material.

Stand after stand they browsed, receiving the same proposal. By the time they had reached the sixth booth, he had begun to tire of it. Kouki wasn’t sure if he would be able to tolerate the endless persuasion any longer. Walking the streets, away from the stands to avoid unrelenting sales talk, seemed to be the smartest choice.

Aside from that inconvenience, the trip itself had been pleasant, but maybe now it was right to depart. The constant badgering had taken a toll on him, as he never expected such to occur. Not to mention, he had already depressed himself multiple times with memories of Akashi.

While it had been truly nostalgic to be near him… to return where it all started, it probably hadn’t been the wisest choice on his part. If they were to continue touring the village, the one by the manor was better to do so. There were no memories there… aside from the few rare ones where he had run into one of _them_. But other than that…it was safe back there.

And carried no memories of his childhood.

Fixing to voice his decision, it was then he caught a glimpse of familiar, elegant robes.

His heart ascended to his throat… Could it be?

Yet when he looked closer, it wasn’t Akashi’s robes, but those of the chamberlain. Mibuchi quickly whisked through the market, the crowds nearby gasping and whispering to each other. One of the emperor’s prestigious servants was here? How? Why? What was the reason for this rare visit?

Mibuchi only ignored their gossip. How strange it was, since he would usually nod and smile politely. At least that was what Kouki remembered. But his mood seemed bitter, irked, giving the impression that something was indeed amiss.

A lack of guards, and now Mibuchi behaving oddly. Had something occurred? Was Akashi okay? Did he need any help? Was it because of their disagreement? That he had left? There went the numerous questions again.

But before he could be granted any answers, Mibuchi had vanished from their sight. Kouki was left with a bundle of emotions on top of his already towering ones. Now the uneasiness he had managed to stifle had resumed full force, and it had no intention on disappearing any time soon.

“I wonder what that was about,” Momoi whispered, “That’s one of Akashi’s higher ups, right?”

Kouki nodded. “Mibuchi-san is probably his most trusted. He goes to him for everything.”

So wouldn’t Akashi need him by his side? He was always present, especially when the council was hounding him. If that were the case… which Kouki was certain it was… how come Mibuchi was here? Where had he ventured to? Would he be gone for long? Away from Akashi?

“Maybe he had to get something for him,” Momoi’s voice pierced his reflection, “Or does Akashi go elsewhere to get things he needs?”

“It… depends what it is. He doesn’t like to travel far if he can have something done right here. But, I have heard that if he needs it from further away, he has it come to him.”

Momoi giggled. “Nothing new about that.”

“Y-yeah.” He wanted to laugh, but his heart firmly objected. “S-same old Sei.”

There was a great pause, an awkward silence lingering between them.

“Do you want to look at another stand?” she suggested.

At this point, what did it matter? “Y-yeah. We can.”

Thankfully, the afternoon crowd was beginning to flock to the stands, temporarily distracting the merchants. Every now and then, they would pester he and Momoi, trying to obtain a sale, but Momoi would drag him away, politely declining. His mind, however, had deserted any acknowledgement of the vendors. No, it had veered toward Mibuchi’s peculiar demeanor, and continued to question why he was in the village.

Beliefs roving, he watched as Momoi browsed the stand, her eyes shimmering when she saw an item that pleased her. How selfish he was being. He had yet to thank her for the journey across the country.

Though the outcome wasn’t how she probably envisioned, at least she had been able to convince him. If it hadn’t been for that, then he would have never been able to be near Akashi… without him knowing. He wouldn’t have been able to stand a shorter distance from the palace, rather than an extremely lengthy one.

Kouki still mourned the loss, his heart still ached, yet for some odd reason, he felt that this was all needed. Why, he still had to discover, but he could feel the answer was lurking around the corner.

And that was when he stumbled upon it.

On the table of this booth, was a row of tassels. Each was of their own special color, but nowhere as vivid as the one he had been gifted. Even in its worn and eroding stage, the tassel locked in the pendant attached to his bracelet was worth more than the ones displayed before him.

…Was this what had been nagging at him? To see something as pointless as a tassel? A string was going to make him decide this was the path he knew he had to take? Seeing Mibuchi, which was a rare event, and now this?

Kouki knew the answer.

Embracing his doubts, he headed where Momoi was still browsing, and softly tapped her shoulder. She quickly turned around, bewildered and on defense, but instantly softened when she noticed it was him. Kouki smiled weakly, imprisoning his skepticism, and hoping he would be able to deliver the proper response, to be able to say what he knew he had to.

 “I… Let’s… head home.” He didn’t miss the confusion, even through Momoi’s cloak. “T-There’s something I need to do.”

Momoi frowned. “If that’s what you want, Kouki-chan. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah… I-I think so.”

She didn’t ask any more questions after that.

They headed back to where the carriage would arrive. Kouki paused a few inches behind, peering over to where the gates of the palace were. His pulse accelerated at the sight.

“The driver should be along soon. I told him an hour, and we’ve been gone only a bit less than that.”

Kouki nodded. “I’m sorry that I might have rushed you.”

She waved it aside. “Don’t worry about it, Kouki-chan. I just hope you had a good time… despite everything.”

“I did.” He swallowed the intruding lump. “M-Momoi-san?”

“Yeah?”

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, reddening both of their complexions.

“T-thank you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Warily sorting through his messages, Kuroko undid the first scroll, reading through the contents before inking his response. Forehead creased in concentration, he reviewed four letters before a familiar crest captured his attention. He studied the parchment, debating if it was worth skimming whatever pitiful apology the man he had discontinued business with had to offer. But in his eyes, there was none that could mend the situation, nor would it nullify what occurred that night, the words that had been passed.

It was then tossed into the fireplace.

Massaging his temples, he dropped his replies into the intended box. Why was he so anxious? Yes, Furihata was off in another part of the country, but Momoi was with him. If anything were to happen, she would instantly resolve it, as she knew perfectly well how to handle herself. Agonizing over the matter was ridiculous, but it couldn’t be helped. The masqueraded boy’s state would always be a fragile one, would always have to be safeguarded.

And that was crucial now more than ever.

Perhaps during their time in the other village, they would cross paths with Akashi, and he and Furihata would repair their sacred bond. Furihata would then somehow admit everything he withheld from the emperor, and the strain between them would diminish. It was a rare chance; an extraordinary miracle would have to occur, but Kuroko was willing to wager with fate. 

On the other hand, it had been taxing enough in the first place getting Furihata to confide in him about his relationship with Akashi. That had been a stroke of luck, a moment of vulnerability that he had quickly acted on. It was sloppily done, but thankfully it had worked out how he had been planning it to. However, that was him. Speaking to Akashi was on a whole other level. And while he and Furihata might have been close, closer than Furihata wished to admit, how Furihata viewed him… beyond flawless…only added to the complications.

A soft tap then vibrated against the doors. There was one person who would knock that quietly. He was more than aware how Aomine’s greeting was… if he did any… and Kagami’s was much more energetic.

“Come in.”

His suspicion soon proved correct.

“Welcome back.” He peered behind. “Momoi-san has gone home?”

Kouki nodded. “Yes. She said she wanted to visit her friend.”  

“That’s nice of her.” Kuroko stepped aside to allow full entrance. “How was your trip?”

There was a brief period of hesitation.

“It was fine.”

By how Furihata wouldn’t look him in the eye, how he was bunching up his skirts within his hands, Kuroko knew that wasn’t the truth. He studied the wavering posture, how Furihata’s lips were trembling. No, something had definitely occurred during this trip, and Kuroko was hoping it wasn’t what he assumed it had been.

However, if it had been in any reference to _them_ , Momoi would have dealt with it… so then what could it have been?

“Furihata-kun?”

His gaze then finally rose from the floor, shakily aligning with Kuroko’s.

“…I think I’m…”

Kuroko remained patient, awaiting him to continue when he was willing to.

“…Ready… I’m…I think…I…”

Although he was wholly unprepared for this confession, Kuroko was relieved. Truthfully, he had predicted this dilemma to continue for another year, a few months, at the least. Had Momoi persuaded him after all, had the plan worked exactly how she had convinced him it would? Either way, Kuroko was pleased with the results, having expected this to be the last thing he would hear back.

“What made you decide?”

Kouki was amazed how his jumbled statement was easily understood. Then again, he had been living with Kuroko for years. It wouldn’t make sense otherwise if he wasn’t able to decode his cluttered prattle by now. And for that, he was forever grateful.

“It’s really silly…”

“I highly doubt so,” Kuroko differed, “Not if it was what made you decide you want to tell Akashi-kun.”

Carefully, he guided them to the table centered in the room, seating Kouki before himself. They lingered in silence, Kouki’s fingers continuing to pull at his dress, and eyes downcast. But Kuroko was patient. He would sit there the whole evening if needed be, for as long as it took. Time was of no matter. Especially with this being the key to solve the impasse. Only, he didn’t count on it happening so soon, but he was more than willing to accept and proceed with what would follow.

“I saw… we saw…  Mibuchi-san when we were in the village.”

Intrigued, Kuroko’s brow elevated.

“Did Mibuchi-san say anything to you?”

Kouki shook his head. “He didn’t see us. But he was acting weird. Like he was mad… or worried.”

“You are thinking something happened with Akashi-kun. Is that not it?”

A slow nod.

“It is always going to be stressful there. However, I understand your concern. Is that what made you decide?”

More reluctance.

“… No… it was something else, but it’s stupid…”

“Nothing is stupid, Furihata-kun. Especially if it is what led to this.”

Kouki heaved another breath.

“When… we were younger, Akashi-san gave me a tassel off his clothes. He tied it around my finger.. and I… I haven’t taken it off since. But…” His face fell. “It came apart, I guess because of age… so-so he sealed it in…”

Easing his trembling, Kouki rolled up his sleeve and revealed the silver piece.

Kuroko examined it. “That belonged to his mother.”

The air nearly evacuated from his lungs.

“You… you know?”

Kuroko nodded. “Yes. Akashi-kun wore that all the time. Along with her ring on a chain.”

Wetness pricked at his eyes. “H-he gave it to me to keep the tassel in. When we were in the village…I-I saw a display with some. I know it’s really stupid… but that was what made me decide that I can’t keep running. Not from someone who meant everything to me… W-who still does… e-even if I don’t to them…”

“You know that is not true, Furihata-kun,” Kuroko reassured, “I am sure Akashi-kun returns your feelings.”

He fished through his pocket for his handkerchief, reaching across to dab at Furihata’s eyes.

“T-thank you, Kuroko-san.” Kouki shakily exhaled. “…I don’t know if he does anymore because of last time… a-and… I don’t think I can face him… to tell him everything.”

After everything… gathering the wits to do this… it never occurred to him that he would be in front of Akashi.

“That is no issue.” Kouki graced him with a puzzled look. “I will write him a letter. We will not speak of the past in it, as I am sure Akashi-kun won’t accept it that way, but we will invite him to the manor.”

Oh, what a relief it was to hear those words.

“Will that do?”

He quickly nodded.

Kuroko retrieved a pen. “You will tell me what you wish to say, and I will write it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“How is this?”

Kouki took the parchment from his hands, slowly scanning the neatly printed words.

_Akashi-kun,_

_I must apologize for the last time we met. I was extremely rude to you, but you have to understand that I was protecting Furihata-kun. I was not lying when I said I could not tell you anything without his knowledge. As I am sure you are aware by now, he has a difficult time trusting people. The reason I am writing to you is that I have spoken to Furihata-kun, and he has agreed that I am allowed to tell you what you wish to know. Please let me know a date that works for you to come to the manor. I apologize for not coming to the palace, but I do not want to frighten Furihata-kun anymore than he already is. I await your reply. Again, I apologize for my rudeness._

_-Kuroko Tetsuya_

“T-this is good.” Kouki handed the letter back to him. “…Do you think he’s going to write back?”

Checking to confirm he had included that a response in return was mandatory, the duke stamped his crest onto the parchment.

“He will. I am sure of it.” Kuroko tied the scroll. “I will have Aomine-kun send for the messenger, and then it will be sent. Unless you wish to wait?”

“N-no. We can send it now.”

Kuroko offered a faint smile and rose from his seat, pausing in front of the masqueraded form. His fingers skimmed Furihata’s cheek, the pads mopping at any awry tears before scaling upward to blot at the edges of his swollen eyes.

“Do not worry so much, Furihata-kun. Everything always works out the way it should.”

More genuine words could have not been declared, but what if this was how it was supposed to be? Perhaps he and Akashi were meant to stay apart, that the last time they would cross paths was at the ball. Life would persist, and he would probably remain miserable while the emperor settled down with another, producing a heir, and continuing the legacy for generation after generation.

The thought sickened him.

However, Kouki was certain this was the last chance he had. He couldn’t blame Akashi’s hostile behavior. Not after all he inflicted on him, to hurl his affection back at him, to disappear from his embrace not once, but multiple times. The anger, the pain he displayed, everything was relevant, and he had no one but to blame but himself.

Yet, he couldn’t repress his insecurities. While standing next to Akashi, he was nothing, and Akashi was everything. He wasn’t tainted, depleted, underappreciated. Probably never had he experienced anything remotely close. And for that, especially with what Akashi saw him as… as this perfect gem… he had never been able to reveal his horrid tale.

But it had come down to this, his last chance.

And there was no longer a second option.

He was terrified beyond belief. But if it would fix the bond that he himself had shattered, then Kouki was more than willing to see it through. Even if he was certain Akashi would never view him the same way ever again.

That was Kouki’s largest fear.

To be rejected by the one he loved.

* * *

Earlier on, when Kouki would sneak letters without Kuroko’s knowledge, they had always been responded to in a suitable manner. During that point in time, Kuroko had been oblivious of his relationship with the emperor. But that wasn’t how it was now. No, their entire complicated history was unveiled, and the offer of the tragic tale Akashi yearned to learn, was out on the table. Back then, the anticipation had been painful, in knowing he had to wait for Kuroko to receive Akashi’s response, to try to discreetly glimpse at them himself.

However, it was nowhere as excruciating as this one was.

That in mind, how come they had yet to receive a response? A few weeks was understandable, a month if Akashi was severely preoccupied. But over two months?

Kouki knew there was only one answer as to why.

“He's not going to,” he whispered sadly, “I should have known.”

When a week had expired since the letter’s departure, he didn't fret, he quelled his hysteria, and he didn't abandon the fragment of hope he clutched. After all, it was a great distance between the villages, and the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Another winter had arrived.

A few more weeks had passed, and his anxiety had flourished. Yet, he still didn’t surrender. Akashi had duties to perform, an extremely important role. So he would have to wait, and he would. Akashi would respond to the letter. Of course he would.

He _had_ to.

But when the entire month had slipped by, his hope began to dwindle. There had been times when Akashi was extremely tied up in affairs, and they had still received a response. Kouki recalled the last letter he had tried to send without alerting Kuroko of anything suspicious. Mibuchi had been the one to answer.

And yet, they had received nothing from him as well.

Now with the elapsing of over two months, his hope, his beliefs, were at a loss. Akashi wasn't going to write back, wasn't going to come to him. He had built up the courage for nothing, had decided to make the leap a second too late.

The emperor no longer wanted him.

Kouki choked back a broken laugh. What did he really expect? That Akashi would instantly forgive him after he pushed him away so many times? After everything he had done to him? When he had done nothing but throw his loving words back at him? He had known all along this was going to be the outcome.

So then, why was he disappointed?

Maybe it was for the better, after all. The thought of Akashi learning of his past, what he had endured, the things he was forced to do. He would be disgusted, would never be able to embrace him again. Honestly, Kouki couldn’t be offended. Who would want to after they learned about the countless times he had been touched? How many people he had…

No, no, no. Excessive thinking like this had to stop. He couldn’t go on living the remainder of his life this way, harping on his past. Ghouls of his earlier years belonged where they were, where they would stay. This was his life now, the one with Kuroko. Whoever had wronged him, whoever had betrayed his trust, had destroyed his innocence, they were now a particle in the wind. Never to return to his thoughts, and hopefully never cross paths with him again.

Using that as a motive, he returned his focus to the previous worry. He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes, his fingers shakily rolling up his sleeve to expose the beautiful trinket. Sniffling, Kouki peered down at the bracelet. What would he do with this now that they were truly finished? Kouki would always treasure it, yes, but if he wore it, it would only succeed in enhancing his misery.

For he’d never see Akashi again.

Gods, was this serious déjà vu, or what? He could have sworn he had been in the exact situation before, had uttered the same words.

Circling around, Kouki gazed at his now frozen garden. Jack Frost had maliciously robbed him of his only comfort. His once beautiful flowers were now withered, sunken in the ground until their next life cycle. They were what he needed the most right now, something that was so close, so dear to him. With his precious blossoms absent for the next season, it was impossible to temporarily seal the gapping hole in his heart, to diminish some of the staggering pain that was overwhelming him.

He tugged his cloak closer, basking in the warmth it provided. The condition of the weather was not advisable for one to be outdoors, but Kouki cared not. Solitude was what he yearned for now. Even if the temperature was plummeting with each breath, it was better to nurse his heartache alone.

In some twisted and ironic way, he found the wintertide an equal to what now lurked in his heart. Where both were now hollow, dark, and cold.

Shivering, a sudden gust blew violently through the area, easily defeating the defense of his cloak. Despite how bulky the material was, it wasn’t enough to battle the harsh wintery atmosphere. If it eradicated his prized flowers so quickly, what made him think he would be able to withstand it?

Kouki nearly jumped when something thicker, much more toastier than his cloak, was placed over his shoulders. Momentarily forgetting his plight, he whirled around to Kuroko standing there, a steaming mug in his hands. The usual sky-blue eyes were dull, a small, pensive smile on his face.

“Furihata-kun.” Kuroko’s tone was empathetic. “You should come inside. It’s very cold out.”

He bowed his gratitude for the extra warmth, pulling the blanket tighter around him.

“I’m okay.” No, he was far from that, and it wasn’t the cold’s fault. “I just…wanted to stay out here to think.”

Kuroko’s gaze lowered.

“Is it about the letter?”

He slowly nodded, taking a sip from his warm mug.

For a week now, Furihata had been in the same position. Perched on the frigid ledges that sheltered his cherished garden, despite how foul the weather was. Today, it was colder than usual, yet there he was, still on the ledge next to his deceased flowers. Kuroko was more than aware as to why, but all he could do was offer him one of his understanding smiles.

A smile he himself knew was forged.

Calm as he might have appeared on the surface, inside, Kuroko was devastated. How could this be? He was heavily disappointed in himself, but he really didn’t believe this was going to be the outcome. Akashi rejecting the invite to learn about Furihata’s past? After how he reacted when Kuroko denied him access? It made absolutely no sense, it was pure madness. This wasn’t the Akashi he knew, someone who never surrendered so easily.

“I am sorry,” he sighed, “I really thought Akashi-kun would have written by now.”

Kouki only remained silent, staring into his mug.

“I still believe he will. It is quite possible he is very busy.”

A shrug. “M… Maybe.”

Did he believe that? No, of course not, but he didn’t wish to upset Kuroko anymore than he already was. Kouki wasn’t going to admit to his caretaker he bear no hope, that he knew from the start Akashi wasn’t going to come forward. It had been true all along, that his last chance had been at the ball, had been their final encounter.

At first he thought maybe the letter was misplaced. Mail became lost all the time, so it was quite possible. But then he remembered who the sender was and who was the receiver. Kuroko stood on the higher scale, and used a different system. Aside from that, losing a letter addressed to the emperor called for severe retribution. Even if it wasn’t their fault, the system knew they had to be extremely cautious when transferring letters for those who were regal.

With that proof, his theory went up in smoke. Thus, demolishing his hope once more.

Since he had been under Kuroko’s guardianship, Kouki always had confidence in his word. Disappointment didn’t exist, as Kuroko consistently told him the truth. If he knew this, how come he couldn’t accept he was doing that now? Kuroko would never lie to him. No matter how grim the circumstances were, he wouldn’t sweeten them to appease him. But, whether Kuroko was aware or not, he could see the dismay in the duke’s eyes. He was afraid he was going to disappoint him, that he would have no choice but to inform him that Akashi wasn’t going to respond.

That made Kouki feel more horrible than he already did.

Guilt evaporated in the form of another presence on the ledge. Kuroko had settled next to him, despite how frigid the temperatures were becoming. He reached forward, hand resting on Kouki’s back, before pulling him forward. A small gasp escaped his lips at the abrupt shift, but he quickly nestled against the warm haven of Kuroko’s shoulder.  

 “I know it is difficult, but please, Furihata-kun.”

There was a lengthy pause, as though he was deciding on the appropriate continuation.

“Have hope.”

Kouki pressed his nose into the soft fabric.

“I…I’m trying to.”

Someone cleared their throat, the sudden noise causing them to sharply spin around to encounter a red head. When had Kagami arrived? Neither he nor Kuroko had heard the doors open. Perhaps they had been too involved in their dilemma to realize. Or, Kagami discovered them in this position, which made for an awkward entrance.

Cheeks tinged red, Kouki’s arms quickly unraveled from Kuroko’s waist. Kuroko, on the other hand, didn’t seem perturbed about being caught, and turned to Kagami with his usual bored expression.

“What is it, Kagami-kun?”

The servant seemed uneasy. Had their embrace flustered him?

“Uh, were you expecting anyone today and didn’t tell us?”

In this weather? No one would dare to make an appointment or arrange for a meeting.

“I wasn’t. Is there someone at the entrance?”

Kagami shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

“If it is any one of the clients I have written to this afternoon, then tell them I will address any of their concerns tomorrow.”

The servant rocked side to side. What was rattling him so?

“Uh, it’s not any of them.”

Kuroko frowned. Why were they involved in a guessing game, and what was making Kagami in this state? He never acted this way. Not unless…

“Who is it then, Kagami-kun?”

Eyes roving, Kagami managed to gain some composure, arms locking at his side, and hips ceasing their swaying.

It was then they learned why he appeared so troubled.

“It’s Akashi.”


End file.
